


I am an Elf

by Arasa17



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 81,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7884886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arasa17/pseuds/Arasa17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I am Legolas. I will not forget. I am an elf of the Woodland Realm, and I will find my way home.”</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was scrawled across his arm in blank ink. It was all he had left. He wanders days in the strange city…chaos, alone, forgotten. By luck or by fate, someone finds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a cold day in November.

The forecast was warm and sunny, a rare sixty-seven degrees Fahrenheit… It was too good to be true.

Icy sheets of rain poured from the pale gray sky. It streamed from the dark windows and careened down the gutters, freezing in the streets where the squealing tires didn’t touch. Sleet spattered the sidewalks and clung to the streetlights where they hung suspended over the wet tarvy. It dripped from the overpass and melted with the roaring traffic, shot from the flying windshield wipers in sprays.

For two tires less than four, the freezing asphalt was perilous. It was a 2013 Toyota sports bike, an older model, already filthy and wet. Ice clung to the exhaust, making the quiet roar a sputter. Trusting the radio forecast was a mistake…But a chance to get out one last time before winter? It was impossible to resist.

Now she struggled for control, easing the throttle to a tentative forty…forty-five… fifty. Traffic waited for no one. It was a constant hum, a never ending thrum of engines that meant the people of Minneapolis were busy, going home. Even in the rain, downtown rush hour was a stream of moving feet and voices. The city was a mass of lifeforms living together and alone. The periodic horn meant they were impatient and angry, frustrated at the cold and the rain. It upset their schedule. It slowed them down. If one thing was unforgivable in the city, it was going forty in a fifty mile-an-hour zone.

Not only that, but more dangerous than the ice.

So she dove from side to side, lane to lane, signaling sometimes, sometimes not, dodging pools and freezing spots. The rain streaked down her helmet and soaked her jeans, slipped down the zipped leather jacket and shattered in steaming gusts off the exhaust. It was Kristy Anderson.

Suddenly, a squad of police cars screamed past, and from behind a rain streaked visor, she glanced up. What _…_ more?

The city was on high alert, said the news bulletins. They were looking for something…for someone. An escaped convict maybe, a criminal. State patrol was on every block. The newscasters were having a hay day. Supposedly, it was all thanks to some powerful ‘electric storm’, they called it, just a few hours north. Power lines outside the cities were down. Houses were destroyed. Maybe whoever it was escaped in the chaos… Who knew?

For the last two days though, army trucks drove north and they manned road blocks at all exits and highways leading out of the city, downtown, and to the suburbs, demanding identification. What happened in this ‘storm’ everyone was talking about? Were they in danger from this something, or perhaps a someone?

Kristy didn’t know. Frankly, she didn’t care.

The police needed something to keep them busy. She kept _herself_ busy by taking every alley, underpass, and freeway unguarded to keep from stopping. On these roads, it was too hard to halt, find her driver’s license, and start up again without tipping the bike. Especially not for something so silly as a roadblock. She was already on the final stretch home…

And suddenly, the phone buzzed against her leg.

Kristy struggled not to slip out in surprise; the car behind her was edging so close she could see the beanie babies swinging from the windshield in her mirror. And then, her phone bleeped dismally and cut out. Kristy cursed. It was the last of its battery life! But the exit was coming up and she swerved onto the off ramp. It led into the city.

Buildings scratched at the sky and she turned onto a two-lane backstreet, leaving most of them behind. Work ended early today; it was three o’clock. In a couple hours, dark would fall and she didn’t like riding at night. Ahead in the distance was a towering collage of apartment complexes, brick, steel and glass all gray in the cloudy light. That was home.

And then she saw him.

Instantly, she hit the breaks and the speedometer shot from fifty to twenty. There was a man in the road. There wasn’t any time!

He didn’t move. A pick-up roared past, horn blaring, and he staggered back, dizzy. _Move!_ Why didn’t he move? He just stood there, hands at his sides, head thrown back and staring into the rain. Water streamed from his chin and…

In the midst of the busy streets, a man looked from side to side, not at…but through. His eyes were empty and full. They saw trees of steel and glass. They climbed over his head like great, clawing giants. They were monsters. They were ugly and ominous. They blocked the sky from his searching eyes.

He saw people, faces and eyes in machines that roared, honked, screeched, squealed. They shouted at him, things he could never understand. He’d been wandering…wandering so long. Time, night, day meant nothing. He couldn’t remember. They blurred together. Cold flashes shivered through him and left him huddled against a wet wall. Flashes of hot, fevered agony that left him dizzy made him disoriented, confused. He could not understand. He could not remember. There was only…this.

He lifted his eyes, staring up into freezing rain. He was so cold that his fingers were numb. He was hungry and wet; he drank the rain for his thirst.

Why was this happening?

Was there no one to answer him, talk to him in a tongue he knew? No one to take him and tell him who he was, where he was, what came of him? Or maybe this was his life, wandering…sick, muttled. Maybe this was the world; people who did not know, did not try. People who didn’t understand him and didn’t care to. People who walked in droves, moved in growling beasts of steal.

 _Why was this happening?_ He staggered off a curb and stopped, tilting his head back and staring into the falling rain. It ran through his hair and streamed down his face, chilled him to the core. Was he punished for some misdeed in a past life? He didn’t know… He didn’t remember.

And suddenly, the blare of a horn shook his dizzy reverie.

“Get off the road, you idiot!” Someone shouted.

The man backed away, confused. What was this language? Why could he not just focus, make himself understand, make himself see? But the syllables made no sense. Bits and pieces seemed to form words, but even these garbled together in his fuzzy ears. He couldn’t see or even think…

And then, the world upended itself.

He turned his head instantly, just long enough to look through a wet shield of glass and into a black, helmeted face. But it was too late. He didn’t move. He didn’t want to.

A screech shuddered through the black tires and marked the pavement, trying to stop, swerve around him. But there was ice and she slammed into him. The handlebar clipped his side so hard he flew back with a grunt of pain and surprise. Cement hit the back of his head and he gasped, stunned. Suddenly, the crash of steel on pavement flipped over him in a blur, and he pushed himself over, staring as the bike skidded to a stop and the person atop it was thrown to the ground.

Kristy’s head cracked against the pavement and a _snap_ broke from her helmet. She tumbled to a stop.

“Oh God…” came a gasp, but the man didn’t understand.

He just watched, dazed, clenching his fists in the cold.

An instant passed, and Kristy screwed her eyes shut tight, expecting agonizing pain to shoot up her spine. She waited for the sound of snapping bones or the wet, warm feeling of blood to seep through her clothes. The only wet that came was the splash of dirty water shooting from the gutter as a car swerved and stomped on the gas, before flying away. She was crumpled face down. The traffic avoided her legs in the street until she crawled to the curb.

“Oh, God…I’m dead.” She grunted, fogging the inside of her cracked visor, before grimacing, pulling the strap loose. She yanked the helmet off and hair tumbled into her face, gasping wet clear air.

Alive!

She pushed up and then, she froze. “God,” _The man…_ Kristy whipped her head up. “Oh…oh, no.”

He was on his side, booted feet in the streaming gutter. Water gushed over them and he stared at something blankly, shivering, panting. She scrambled over as fast as she could on shaking limbs. Kristy wasn’t hurt…She couldn’t believe it, but she could feel it. She was alive!

“Are you all right?!” Kristy rasped, coughing violently, before pushing wet hair out of her face to see better. “Sir! Are you all right? I’m s-so sorry! I didn’t see you. I-I…” and she trailed off, panting.

The man was on his arm now, pulling himself stumbling onto the sidewalk. She touched his back, offering useless support. But his boots slipped out and he collapsed. Long, wet blonde hair spilled down his shoulders now. Keen blue eyes, foggy and gray in the light, peered past her and down the busy street, as if searching for something, anything, desperately. His mouth was clamped in a stony white line…She’d never seen anyone like him. He was…different.

“S-sir? Are you hurt?” Kristy asked softer, touching his shoulder. “Do I need to call the police?”

He looked at her then. He had to move…walk, find where he needed to go, who he needed to talk to. But he paused. The human was still here. She was not shouting at him, not pushing past either. She was leaning close, touching his arm, asking…something.

 _Why couldn’t he think?_ Why could he not just see her face? It was blurry, like a foggy window. All he could hear was the distant roar of vehicles and the windy rain.

“Please! Just tell me if you’re hurt!” She pleaded, shaking violently. She was realizing just how close she came to the accident, a real accident. How she could have dragged down the street with her bike, slammed into the telephone pole, twisted and snapped instead of being thrown free. It left her shaking and tears streamed down her face.

“My phone’s dead, but I-I can call an ambulance…or something. I can call the police. Tell me what to do!”

She crouched on her knees on the wet pavement, and glances threw their way from the couple across the street. The traffic went on as before. Life was too busy to stop. The two were up and talking... Obviously they were fine. Obviously they didn’t need the help of a stranger, the man taking his dog home, the woman late for a business meeting. They scurried on as they had before.

“They’re g-going to ask for identification and-and social security number, and insurance cards. Do you have them?” she dug around in her own pockets, coming up with a billfold. Thoughts and ideas tumbled through her head.

The police were supposed to be told about all accidents…no matter how minor. But her phone was dead! And the police were so hyped on this ‘storm’ thing. Should she ask someone to call for her? Kristy showed her billfold to the man, pointing at it, and he just pushed away.

He slipped once, but made it upright. She reached out and scrambled after him; he didn’t need it. He was against a street sign, supporting himself. _Oh, what am I supposed to do now_? Kristy thought desperately. _He doesn’t understand._ The man just stood there, hunched, panting.

“Come on. Listen to me.” She shook her head, standing before him. “Can you walk? Can you get home?”

And then, he looked at her, grimacing. His face was white in the rapidly fading light. His eyes were like stormy gray pools. They left her breathless…Why did he look at her like that?

“H-here…” she struggled with her zipper, before pulling her jacket off and wrapping it around his arms. It was more than a little too small for his broad shoulders, but it would have to do. “You look cold. Oh, what am I talking about? _I’m_ cold.” She shook her head vigorously in the sleet, shivering. “It’s freezing out here. I can w-wave down a taxi for you, at the very least. Just tell me where you want to go… a home address? A friend? Anything!”

He just looked at her.

“Oh, I know this is a mistake. But um, okay…” she whispered, thinking fast and trying not to panic. It was like holding your hands out to stop a speeding train. “I’m…going to let you come to my apartment building. I’ll quick get my home phone and call the police from there…or someone. All right?”

A gust of rain shivered through her thin sweater and she stood, shivering and waiting. He didn’t answer. Water streamed from his chin, and she shifted to look up at him. The man’s eyes were focused on her, or somewhere near…but there was something deep, something ageless in the shadowed gaze. He was lost, or confused…afraid. Dusk was falling and he was shaking.

“Kwentra amin mani yamen’ sina…” he whispered faintly, and Kristy hissed through her teeth in surprise.

“…w-what?”                                                 

The man reached up and then, shuddering in exhaustion, his fingers touched her face. He wanted to ask so many things, but his mouth couldn’t form the words. It didn’t matter. No one understood.

“All right…Come on,” Kristy said softly, before carefully, she took his hand from her face and folded it in her fingers. She pointed with her chin. “I-I have to get my bike up. Then, it’s a few blocks to my apartment, and I’ll call someone from there. Kay? You gonna be all right?”

He didn’t answer again, but shivering in the bitter rain, he squeezed her hand tighter. It was something to hold onto, and the rain was blurring his world. It was growing worse… He felt black hovering at the edges, like a monster just waiting to pounce.

Kristy’s bike idled away on its side. It was braced on the curb, and with the center weight helping her, she managed to heave it upright.

“Oh, my paint.” she whimpered, wiping her face. The perfect blue was no longer perfect…far from it. It didn’t matter. She was alive. This…man, was alive.

So they got it down the road’s shoulder until the street passed the glass doors of a great, brick building climbing into the sky. The man leaned on her bike for support, keeping his hand on hers as she pushed. It was a queer feeling, the stranger’s touch. His skin was bitterly cold, yet he didn’t let her hand away for more than an instant at a time. It was like he had nothing else to keep.

“Around here…” Kristy flinched in a sharp gust of wind and they turned down the asphalt driveway, which eventually lead down into a parking lot under the apartments. Most of them were built this way; it saved precious space in the city.

The man stumbled on the cracked yellow speed bump. Then, they were sheltered in the garage and they walked down the rows of cars, dark except the dimly burning bulbs strung in rows across the ceiling.

He looked around in wonder, but couldn’t see straight. Weakness was washing over him and his limbs felt like lead weights. He wasn’t thinking. All he could concentrate on was how far it would be until he found something that made sense, something to latch onto, how long until he could collapse. For a reason he couldn’t fathom, this…woman was still with him. She wasn’t speeding off; she wasn’t pushing past him. He didn’t want that to change.

“Come on.” Kristy pushed the kickstand down, before beckoning. “This way.”

To her mild surprise…or not, his eyes wandering wildly, he caught her hand on the way down and wouldn’t let go. Past the main doors in the carpeted entry, a desk and chair sat against the wall. Lines of metal grated mailboxes lined it, and Kristy pulled him into the elevator. It wasn’t like he’d let go of her, even if she tried to leave him behind. So, she headed for her apartment.

“I probably shouldn’t be doing this, you know.” Kristy muttered to him, punching the button for the twenty-fifth floor. It was the second to the top. “You could be…” She sighed, trailing off. Why bother? He didn’t understand.

He could be a stalker, a professional who did this for a living…He could be getting unsuspecting women into accidents to get their address, case the place. He could rob them blind, or worse. Who knew?

As the elevator jolted into the climb and rose slowly, the man grabbed the wall in surprise, eyes wide. She ignored it, wondering _why didn’t she listen to herself?_ Why didn’t she leave this strange man on a street corner? Or better yet, dump him on the police station’s doorstep, a homeless shelter?

But she didn’t. She just stood against the wall, feeling her fingers clasped in the man’s hand slowly warm. Kristy took the time to look at him, really look at him.

His skin was flawless and white. Dark, angular brows framed his eyes and he was tall, tall and a little lean. He was hunched and shivering though, using the wall for support like he could barely manage staying upright. There was something pitiable in the way his eyes flinched at the movement of the elevator, the dim light. Even his clothes were…strange. Leather boots reached his knees and a belt buckled around his waist and shoulder. Perfect green thread stitched the forest green of his tunic. He had her coat around his arms, and he stood rigid, legs apart.

How were they moving? He didn’t have time to reason it out.

The doors slid open and the woman tugged him out into the hall. A door she stopped at had numbers…number 99. He watched her dig in her pockets, fingers shaking. He felt her tug on the hand that he wouldn’t let go, but an instinct buried deep wouldn’t let him release her.

She wanted to help him. He needed that help.

“Here we are.” She said as she closed the door behind him, and only when he realized these were her living quarters, did he reluctantly let her fingers pull out of his.

His eyes were fuzzy and his knees were shuddering in exhaustion. He was beginning to cough, a dry, painful cough. But he found a deep leather couch along the opposite wall. There were heavy drapes across the windows, blocking most of the clouded light. But it didn’t matter. He was inside, warming a little, and for some reason, it felt like his body was shutting down. He didn’t stop before, because he couldn’t.

Now, he could.

Kristy plugged her phone in on the kitchen countertop, before calling. “Do you have a number I can call, at least?”

She strode out again, thinking of a way to motion ‘phone number’ with her hands…before freezing. Suddenly, all the strength went out of her and she felt like falling to her knees.

“Oh, no...”

This hadn’t actually happened. It couldn’t have. Kristy stared, stunned.

In the semi-darkness, there was a rapidly-becoming-familiar body on her couch. The man was face down in the pillows, absolutely still, collapsed.

“…seriously…” she breathed, running a hand through her wet hair. His boots were only half on, like he hadn’t even made it to the sofa before passing out. One hand was thrown over the cushions and the other behind his neck, cradling his own head.

She exhaled slowly, before tentatively walking closer. Kristy touched his face first…stony cold, yet flushed hot. Fever. Her fingers traced his hand, fiddled with his sleeve, thinking hard. Then, she poked him in the arm.

“Are you faking?” Kristy whispered, hoping he would answer if he was. _Why me?_ And _where_ exactly was she supposed to put him? “Well, what am I going to do with you…?” she sighed, dropping her hands into her lap.

And then, she blinked. His hand, curled in a loose fist on the carpet had something written across his fingers. Kristy carefully picked it up, unfolding his hand. In smudged, black ink a word was scrawled across his palm. _Le…_ she focused, tilting his hand into the light. _Legolas._

She squinted, thinking a moment, before sitting back on her heels. _What in Helsinki was a Legolas?_ And then, she realized more of the black ink ran up his arm. The woman pushed his sleeve up, barely registering the rapid pounding of her heartbeat.

But she couldn’t read it. It was scrawled in a strange, swirling script. It was smudged in the rain, but obviously not English… Suddenly, she blinked and snapped her head up. The man, whoever he was, was shivering so violently Kristy could see it. The moisture on his face was no longer rain, but a cold sweat. He was convulsing, clinging to the cool leather cushion.

_Doctor Reiner…_

He lived two floors down! He could help her. Maybe he could tell her where this man came from, or what a ‘Legolas’ is. Maybe he would know what to do …

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

 _Kwentra amin mani yamen’ sina…_ Tell me what place this is.

 

**A/N: So… Love? Loathe? I know _Middle-Earth collides with Earth_ isn’t really an unsung saga, but I guess we all have a little ‘too bad fantasy and the real world don’t mix’ in us, right? I wrote this recovering from the nasty clutches of a head cold, and it’s a story I’ve wanted to write for a long time. So I’m going to write! I hope you like reading. **

**The language gap here is because in Legolas’s time, ours has not been invented. He can speak Elvish (Sindarin or Quenya) and Westron, but English is new to him. So hit the review button and tell me what you think so far! I’d love to hear it. :))**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but I’ve been having terrible trouble with life, mainly…internet access. I’ve been writing though, so here’s the next installment. Hope you enjoy. :)**

 

_Dark…pain…_

Legolas flinched, panting in a cold sweat. He tore at the blankets around his body until he was free, and his fight was with himself. He couldn’t escape! Voices in a thick, twisted murmur filled his head.

_…flaming hot and bitter cold…_ It was fever and fear.

Legolas couldn’t understand them. He heard whispers and felt touches that he couldn’t recognize, echoes of reality. Legolas tossed and twisted in vain agony, trying to breathe. He tried to cough; his mouth was on fire. Legolas wanted to scratch his throat out for the pain. The pain! It never stopped. The sheets under him were wet with his sweat and he strained for air. The sky was falling and crushing him, suffocating him slowly. It felt like someone strangled him; the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.

Legolas fought back fiercely. It just never stopped. It never ended. Chills wracked his body and someone warm engulfed him in blankets…But then he was on fire again and he kicked them off. It never stopped. They tried to force bittersweet medicine down his throat, but it screamed like fire and he spat it out, coughing up blood.

Then…in the midst of darkness….it began to lift.

His breaths were ragged, but they came easier. Legolas panted, chest heaving, and he sucked in clear air. There was the voice of a man, as he sank into unconsciousness and clawed his way out again. When this man came, the pain in his chest and his limbs eased. His hands were rough and calloused, experienced. They were the hands of a healer.

Darkness was his world. Feelings and nothing but his own thoughts were there to help him when he fell into black; he tried desperately to stay awake. The dark was terrifying and loathsome.

And then there was the woman.

Her voice was quieter…her touches were careful and subdued. She was afraid of hurting him. But with her came soothing coolness. She touched wet, cold rags to his face…down his neck, his chest. She rubbed his body through velvety blankets when he shivered with cold.

So…when the agony and fire slowly lifted from him, he realized so did the healer. The visits grew less and less often. It took longer for his throat to heal, but he could swallow now. He could bear to breathe... The woman stayed, talked to him in a quiet murmur. In a glimpse of awareness, Legolas even tried to reach up once, to touch her hand as it stroked his face. But his arms were numb like dead weights. He couldn’t move, so severe was his exhaustion.

He could only sleep…and breathe…and sleep more.

Kristy sighed, holding her arms and looking at the man, the ‘Legolas’, on her couch. It was a roll-away. A pile of cushions in the closet and the back of the couch was his headboard. Somehow, it made her feel more comfortable this way. There were only two locked doors in the apartment: her bedroom and the bathroom. Kristy kept a 30,000-volt Taser on her bureau, just in case, and in the kitchen counter...just in case.

Yes, the man was sick and exhausted…but who knew who he was? No one, it seemed.

It was seven days since she ran into him. Doctor Reiner just left from his last house call. Kristy used the first few vacation days to take care of him; Reiner said he needed someone there with him constantly. She used her lunchbreaks to watch over him from then. Kristy didn’t know why she did it, but she did.

She sat on her knees in a leather lazy-boy now, a cheese sandwich crunched nervously in her hands. Legolas was unconscious or delirious before, sleeping so hard nothing could stir him.

Now, he shifted restlessly. Instead of deep, slow breaths, he took short quick ones. Kristy noticed it and it sent her heart racing. He was healing quickly… and she was alone. She’d barely even spoken to anyone: family, friends, anyone for a week now and she wondered if she was deadly wrong on this.

Kristy stared at him.

Somehow, she hadn’t prepared herself for it... actually waking up. It was ridiculous. Mr. Reiner was the finest old doctor in the state. He knew what he was doing! He said Legolas would be fine, with rest and care. It was stupid to think this was coming too soon.

He accepted water from her for days now, fluttering his eyes open and closed in a haze… He was healing. He didn’t pant and thrash, call things that made no sense. He didn’t tear at the sheets and shout obscenities in a strange tongue. The man was sleeping deeply, quietly. It was time.

Kristy sighed, before putting aside her food, rinsing her hands, and climbing the bed with a cool rag.

_Black_ …

It was the first thing Legolas felt. It wasn’t a cold, bitter black though. It was a warm, fathomlessly deep one. He became...aware.

Legolas cracked his eyes open. A bleary haze of colors and semi-darkness filled the slit... There was wind outside, a dull hum above his head. The sound was strange and he listened to it, feeling warm air currents brush his face. It seemed to tingle on his skin, heat and comfort.

Legolas opened his eyes fully, shifting in the warm pillows and sheets enveloping him. It was a smooth, silky sensation...exquisite...Except one thing. His head felt like the pounding of a thousand drums, and his body was a useless pool of warm milk. Disgusting.

Where was he? _What happened?_ He stared blankly at the radiant glow shining from the windows... And slowly, a sinking feeling hit the pit of his stomach.

_By the spirits…_ He was dead.

The pain he fought through was gone. The chaos, fire, and fear were sapped away in a hollow, empty void. He was somewhere he’d never been. Legolas couldn’t tell why or how, but even the air he breathed felt foreign.

“He _lives_!”

Legolas blinked in surprise, fully awake now. There...sitting frozen like an ice statue, was a female.

“Oh…um… I mean, you’re awake.”

At least he thought it was. It was hard to tell, the way his vision blurred and fuzzed. But the voice was unmistakable. Some part of him had listened to it for...he wasn’t sure how long: days, weeks, hours.

“Hi.” She said, and he glanced up.

_Hi?_ Was that her name? Was it his, or the name of this place? Or was this some kind of greeting he was expected to respond to?

Somehow, he barely managed to swallow, much less provide a greeting. Obviously, he concluded, this was not the undying lands of trees and happy hunting he’d always learned the forefathers departed to upon death. And then he thought about it… _Where did he hear such a thing?_

“How do you feel?” Kristy asked more subdued.

The words sounded garbled. Legolas didn’t understand. Where was he? What happened? He grimaced and glanced down, realizing he was swathed in cool sheets and shirtless in the midst of a… living room?

His mind was an empty slate. Images and random things came to him...wandering, empty and cold. Sick. Legolas remembered screeching blurs of metal and towering masses, feeling confused and desperate. _Then the woman..._ It was faint, distant like a dream, but definite. She came before the black fell.

“You,” he rasped, wincing at his voice. It was croaky and pained. He remembered her, holding her hand…strange hallways. “I remember you.”

“Um...I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” Kristy said, before carefully feeling his forehead with a cool palm. Legolas froze under her hand, staring, before she reached out and slipped some kind of thin, silver rod from the tableside. She held it in front of his mouth.

“What...” he mumbled, staring at the thing blankly. “What happened to me?”

Kristy blinked. Then, she tapped the rod in her hand pointedly. Legolas stared at her in a steely, frozen way. _Maybe the she-human who cared for him failed in the mental capacities…_

“Come on.” Kristy sighed, before reaching out and tapping on his jaw, asking him to open it. “Your temperature…please. Reiner can’t come up until morning! Your fever only broke yesterday. So...um, are you going to cooperate?”

It was impossible due to waves of exhaustion seeping through his limbs, making it hard even to move, but he managed to inch away. He wasn’t sure if he liked this woman touching him.

“Oh all right.” Kristy moved the sheet and placed the thing between his arm and his side. Legolas shivered. “I know.” she smiled, getting up. “…cold.”

It was that moment that Legolas chose to look up, and he coughed...hard.

The girl was half-dressed! Some kind of sleep shift just wrapped around her waist, and it barely reached her knees. Quickly, Legolas blinked away, grimacing in confusion and embarrassment. It was too late; she was gone.

_Where in Elbereth’s name was he?_ Elbereth…who was Elbereth? Why did he think of that?

Legolas sighed. At least the throbbing in his head was fading. He was warm, comfortable, and apparently cared for. It was hard even to think about anything else.

“Here.” The woman said as she came out. Legolas pointedly avoided his eyes. “Reiner gave this to me.”

Kristy came around to sit at the bedside, before taking his face in one hand and placing a small, fist sized object against his ear. He recoiled at the touch, staring at her in surprise, before a _click_ snapped in his ear and he flinched.

“You know, they use this on stubborn babies, don’t you?” She stared at the screen. “So dividing the difference between the two is…a near perfect 98.6 degrees!” Then, she smiled at him, relief shining in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re better.”

_Was he going to reply to something he had no idea of?_ Or should he just- _Sweet Eru!_ Legolas grabbed the sheets suddenly and looked down. To his flooding relief, he found he still had pants on... Legolas summoned the strength to shuffle down deeper anyway, glowering. He wasn’t prudish, but lying half-naked in bed with strange females was unbefitting.

“Oh…sorry about that.” Kristy said quickly. “Your old clothes were really wet and…um, nasty. Reiner had some pants to spare, and- Well, sorry they’re too short.”

He stared at her, a little darkly, before nodding and looking away. Judging by her penitent expression, at least there was an apology somewhere in that monologue.

So afternoon light poured through the windows and he found the floor was carpeted. Legolas tried to focus. The room was large and spacious, cluttered around the edges with a round table, shelves...books. Objects and things he couldn’t even guess at scattered the place. A great window and a table piled in papers, coats and pens stood in the corner. It was all very strange.

“You’re going to be as good as new in no time.” Kristy said quietly, looking at him. She thought of all the ways she would have to tell him as soon as he was well, that he had to leave. But she didn’t. It was too soon. “I…I guess you’ll be able to find your home, then. And family and friends and stuff, right?”

_Why did she look at him so guiltily?_ Legolas stared…before losing interest and turning away. It was too hard even keeping his eyes open. Besides, the fact that he wasn’t dead, and this wasn’t the _land_ of the dead only narrowed the possibilities of his location by one.

Kristy sighed. “Okay then… I’ll go call doc and tell him you’re fine.”

Legolas let his eyes slide shut in response, before sliding deeper into the warm sheets with a heavy sigh. The pillows he sank in were soft, clean, and scented. Somewhere, Legolas knew the things around him were remarkable, but he was too tired, too confused... He didn’t know what to think about all this, what to feel. So he didn’t. It was too hard.

“I…have to go take Alice’s shift.” Kristy was about to leave, but she looked back. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Legolas didn’t answer, not even a blink. The clock ticked away the time and the hum of distant traffic filled the silence, and yet Legolas heard her on the carpeted floor. She slowly came back to stand above him a moment, looking at him; Legolas pretended not to know.

“I’m sorry…you know.”

Then, Kristy leaned down and brushed the stray hair from his face, gently combing it behind his ear…and he flinched. _He should have felt that._ Legolas instantly froze where he lay. His ear should have been more sensitive to such a touch; he knew it. He should have felt a tingle shiver through his whole body. There was something missing…something terribly wrong!

And then, Kristy was gone and he was alone. Legolas’ heart thudded in his chest. Something was wrong, and he didn’t know why!

_I am not the same._

**A/N: So…what are you thinking so far? Any feedback is much appreciated. :)**

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow, thank you readers for all the positive feedback. I’m so happy! You’re all wonderful. I’ve changed the picture art for this story, by the way, because it was just my profile pic before. Special thanks for your wonderful reviews, jshaw0624, Guest, dreamer, Woman of Letters, Amateur Bacon Cook, Fangirl.Divided, WyomingCowboy15, SparkyTAS, middleagemanager, and Andy the willow tree. :))**

 

_Tick…tick…tick…_

Legolas cracked his eyes open, staring blankly through sleep-blurred vision. His face was crushed in warm pillows.

_Tick…tock…tick_

Suddenly, he sat bolt-upright.

Legolas sat in the center of a bed. He bounced a little, curiously feeling the springs under him, before glancing around to take in the room. It wasn’t large, but the clearness of the center made it open, spacious. Cream walls, varnished wood furniture, an empty fireplace stood on the corner wall, things he didn’t recognize under a great window.

_Peculiar…_

He licked his dry lips, before curiosity and a fresh wave of energy pulled him from the warm sheets. Legolas threw on a loose cotton shirt from the back of a chair, closing a few buttons. The tabletop was littered in… things. _What were they for?_ Legolas carefully traced his fingers over them, before edging over to a curtained door. He found his boots near the wall, and he glanced warily from oddity to oddity.

The ticking sound that woke him came from a glass disc, like a sundial. The low hum was warm breaths of air seeping through a vent in the wall… some kind of heating system.

Stars _… where was he?_

The door opened out onto a balcony. Legolas took in a gust of cold, windy air and leaned on the rail, looking out over the city… But he wasn’t dreaming. The buildings, the moving dots and distant echoes of voices and honks…they were real. Legolas shivered in the brisk wind, rubbing his arms through the thin shirt.

It was…impressive, at least. It did things for his mind, his spirit. The sight of the massive city made him want to panic, but it calmed him at the same time. He was on a hill, and a dim blue haze made the towering giants in the distance. He stood above the smell of exhaust and rushing bodies. _Where were the trees?_ Where was the green and the stars amongst this chaos?

Legolas stared out over it all grimly. What a place he’d come to. How did it happen? Why couldn’t he remember anything of importance?

And then a voice broke into his reverie.

“Legolas?”

Legolas turned automatically… He’d forgotten all about the woman.  

“Oh. There you are.” Kristy said shakily. She stumbled on the heeled boots she had on, trying to take them off. Folders and papers dropped to the floor. For a strange instant, when she saw the empty bed, she thought he was gone. Maybe Legolas didn’t recognized this place as home? Maybe he went to find it?

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Um, you look…” Kristy trailed off.

Legolas, standing alone in the fading light made her stop in the threshold. Kristy gripped her hands in her pockets, biting her cheek in the cold. He was on the balcony in his boots and Reiner’s pants, pale hair whisking over his shoulders in the wind. The thin white shirt rippled around him and clung to his muscular frame in places; his eyes were focused and cool. They had color again, blue-gray, sharp and focused. Dark circles still made him look exhausted...

But he was a man, fully mature and older than Kristy. She knew that looking at him. It was strange. She remembered him sleeping peacefully in the pillows, wondering if he was even out of his teens yet.

“…better.” She finally managed.

Legolas turned away. _What was the point making conversation when her words meant nothing?_

Kristy stepped carefully out onto the terrace. The balconies were stacked atop each other from bottom to top, all the same; the floor of one was the ceiling of the next. Pale brown brick and steel braces supported the building. Distant voices echoed through the city and clusters of moving bodies filled the streets.

“So…I have something for you.” She said as she came up beside.

Legolas just stared at the horizon, gripping the rail in his hands. He should show appreciation for her care. He should make his thanks known somehow…but he didn’t.

“I know you can’t understand English, at least speak it.” Kristy struggled for some way to tell him what she wanted. “But I was hoping you could, you know, _read_ whatever it was on your arm?”

Legolas just glanced to her from the corner of his eyes. Listening to her try and talk to him wasn’t rewarding at the best of times.

“You…you still can’t understand me. All right.” So, heart pulsing in her ears, Kristy pulled the picture from her pocket. It was time to show him. The page was a printout, too smudged to make out herself, at least to copy. But maybe he could. She pushed it into his hands.

“What devilry is this?” Legolas muttered the instant he looked down. The painting in his fingers was as real as life. _How was it possible?_ He turned to Kristy, seeking answers.

She had a gray, hip-length coat on, belted around the waist. The girl was uncomfortable under his eyes though, and he made a point not to linger too long on her trousers. Men’s clothes. She was just one surprise after the next.

“Who is this?” Legolas motioned with his hands, confused.

She pointed at him.

“…Me? Impossible.” Legolas shook his head. He was sharp, flinty like steel. _How was it possible?_ When? Where?

Kristy just sighed, before pointing at the picture. Then, she touched his arm…ignoring his surprised flinch…and back to the photo. It was no use talking to him.

“What does it say?” she asked anyway, nodding to the black, smudged writing in the picture. “Can you read it?”

Legolas focused. He tilted the paper in the light, concentrating, and then he froze. The words made sense. He could read them!

“I am…Legolas. I will not forget.” The next line was smeared beyond recognition, but he knew what it said. He murmured aloud. “I am an elf of the Woodland Realm, and I will find my way home.”

Kristy raised an eyebrow. “It makes sense?”

Legolas got the gist of that… and he nodded slightly. But the writing disturbed him, more than he could explain.

“Well, that doesn’t really help me.” Kristy sighed, dropping her eyes in defeat. “Come on.” she mumbled. “I’m going to make something to eat.”

Oh when was she going to say something that made sense? Legolas stared at her. _Why did she even bother talking to him?_

“ _Eat_.” Kristy pushed stray hair behind her ears. “You know…eat?” At his blank expression, she pretended her hand was a spoon and pointedly ate with it. Then, Legolas grinned to himself.

At least hunger wouldn’t be one of his troubles! She was going to feed him.

“I can’t really ask what you want, but I guess that means yes.” She half-smiled, moving into the house. Behind her, Legolas slid the picture into his pants, and he wouldn’t look at it again. Kristy shut the door behind him. “Well, Reiner wouldn’t let you have much of anything, anyway.”

“In here.”

The kitchen joined the living room by an open doorway, and it was stranger still. Varnished wood cupboards and white stained metal lined the walls; counters and humming boxes rattled quietly. Legolas sat at the table and studied the carpet, before glancing around. Windows lined the walls in pairs of three, and moving and digging through the cupboards across the tile was the she-human.

Soon, steam rose from some kind of cooking device. The smell reminded Legolas of how long it was since he last ate…Longer than he could remember.

Kristy glanced at him, pouring milk and running water. He stared at everything with wide, curious eyes. _How old was he?_ She thought thirty before…thirty-five maybe. But now, she wasn’t sure. He looked at the things around him suspiciously, like a tiger on a leash.

And suddenly, Legolas cleared his throat. This was as good a time as any.

Kristy looked up. “What?”

“What is your name?” he repeated, then touched himself. “I am Legolas.” It felt strange to say his name, barely familiar to him, but Legolas needed things that were firm, that were real. He needed to take them and store them away, start making memories where he had none. “You?” He questioned.

Kristy stared. “Oh! My name… M-my name’s Kristine.”

Legolas blinked.

“You know, Kristine?”

“Kris-teen.” Legolas murmured carefully, chewing on the unfamiliar word. Hm. Strange.

“Just call me Kristy.” She said, but Legolas would have none of it. He’d repeat one name over and over in his head, and that name would be this odd she-human he watched, but couldn’t quite understand. Kristine.

“Lle hannon, Kristine.” He said quietly as she set a bowl of food on the table for him. Then, Legolas leaned back. It was some kind of…

“ _Porridge_?”  

“It’s all Doctor Reiner said you could eat.” Kristy explained, guessing at his distasteful expression.

“I am not a child waiting to be weaned!” Legolas wrinkled his nose. His stomach wanted it badly, but his mouth didn’t.

“You need food.” Kristy looked at him, staring critically at the bowl. Was there something wrong?

Legolas sniffed. Porridge and milk. Baby food.

“Well let me put it this way. All you’ve had is _vitamin_ supplements for at least a week now. And that was just since you ran into my vehicle. Who knows how long you were wandering around before that? You need solid food, chum.” Then, Kristy patted his shoulder, rubbing her eyes. “…Enjoy.”

Legolas wasn’t sure what happened in that exchange, but he frowned at her back. At least she had the decency to sit up on the counter with the same bowl of gruel he did.

But soon, he realized it wasn’t like anything he’d ever eaten.

“It’s Cream of Wheat.” Kristy nodded to the bowl as he let the hot cereal settle curiously on his tongue, swallowing slowly and tasting another. Then she yawned, crawled down and dug something out of a cupboard. She sprinkled the spoonful of sugar on his cereal.

Legolas looked up at her.

“Don’t tell doc on me.”  

_Why did she cook for him?_ Why did she care?

“You are a strange she-human, indeed.” Legolas said aloud, because he knew she wouldn’t understand him. He raised an eyebrow, stewing on a strange thought. “…And I wonder what you plan to do with me…”

She shrugged in response, sort of a nondescript, tired shrug, and Legolas sighed. He ate until his stomach told him ‘enough’. Then, for what was left of the evening, Kristy went about showing him things… The warm, running water was exquisite. The devilry of the ‘television’ was horrifying. She talked to him nearly constantly; Legolas understood not a word.

It was becoming grating.

“…Don’t you think you should be resting?” Kristy said finally in the bathroom, careful to keep an arm’s span away. Legolas didn’t make a move to touch her, flinched when she did, but she wouldn’t tempt fate. Kristy kept away from him.

“I-I mean Doctor Reiner said he was surprised you were up at all. Don’t you think you should take it easy?”

“Take-a-teezy?” Legolas repeated, stepping into the shower and fingering the ‘cold’ knob curiously. Maybe this was like the one in the kitchen…

“You know…sleep.” She stared at him, watching him play with the faucet. He looked like a boy, a boy with a strange new toy. Then, at his narrow glance, she quickly blinked away and put her face in her hands. Kristy pretended to snore. “Sleep?”

“I am not going to rest.” Legolas muttered in reply, examining the shower handle and deciding to try it. “I have slept enough, and I will sleep no more.”

“But-”

“- Aye!” He shouted in surprise, slamming it off and leaping back. It was _not_ like the one in the kitchen! Legolas gasped, wiping his face and stumbling out of the shower in shock, dripping wet.

“What are you doing?”

“ _Kristine_ …” he hissed at her agape face, coughing. “You live in a house of _wizard’s_ tricks! I do not like it here.”

“What’s the matter with you?” Kristy hit the shower door shut. He was shocked and spluttering the water out of his mouth. _Angry._ He was angry. “You pull the handle, obviously it’s going to spray you down.” She gasped in confusion.

“I do not _like_ it here!” He insisted, pushing wet hair back. “Why does everything hiss, clang and explode at me?”

“Don’t bite at me.” Kristy flinched. Her back hit the wall. “I didn’t do it. I-if you’re going to push and pull randomly at objects, they’re going to do something. What do you expect? Don’t you-”

“-You make no _sense_ , woman.” Legolas didn’t care that he did the same thing. He talked to her just for someone to talk to, to hear his own voice. But it was infuriating, unable to get his point across without using ridiculous hand motions. He spoke and no one understood. He said so. “And why do you keep prattling on to me when you _know_ I do not understand?”

Kristy’s voice broke and she clamped her mouth shut, blinking furiously. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I have no idea what you’re saying.” He snapped. Kristy winced. “ _Why_ do you bother trying?”

“If you don’t want to listen to me, why don’t you just go to bed and stay there?” She pointed vigorously, trying to make him obey. “Just go! I don’t have _any_ of my work done. ” she shook her head, uselessly hitting the cupboards shut. “Obviously, you don’t want my help, anyway. See this? Pull the handle, water comes out. Figure it out for yourself.”

“Stop _speaking._ ” Legolas hissed. “I don’t understand and you know it.”

Kristy spun around, pointing at him. “Don’t you snap at me!”

“You-”

“No! Just _stop_. I get cranky when I’m tired... Can’t you tell?” She turned around. “That means an hour of sleep in longer than I can remember! That means walking _twenty_ -five flights of steps in God damn heels. That’s the _power_ going out, my alarm clock breaking, and getting to work late _twice_ in one week _._ So, don’t you dare shout at me!”

And suddenly, Kristy didn’t care that he looked more bewildered than angry now. She hit the hair out of her face, wiped her streaming eyes, and pushed past him. Legolas whirled around, staring after.

“Do what you want! I don’t care.” She stomped into her room and slammed the door shut.

And then, there was silence. He shivered, letting the cold water cling to his skin.

_What happened?_

Legolas blinked, staring at the plain wood door. And standing there a minute, damp in the hallway, letting his temper cool…Legolas realized he was ungrateful. He was ungrateful, afraid, and he was angry. That’s what happened.

Legolas walked numbly into the living room, before dropping down onto the sofa. He held his head in his hands.

Machines…lights, switches, things that bleeped and squeaked. Why did he let it gnaw at him? Legolas just didn’t understand. He couldn’t remember; he had nothing but the writing on his arm and words that made no sense.

Then…there was Kristine.

She tried to help him. Kristine fed him, nursed him out of his sickness…But she made no sense! This woman talked on and on about nothing, showed him things he’d never seen before. Then, when he let a single burst of anger get the better of him, after all he’d been through, she fairly flew away in tears!

_What does she expect?_ Legolas thought, grimacing in frustration. How could he possibly keep his feelings down? It was only normal, and natural, and-and…and selfish.

Legolas dropped his hands, staring at the floor. Kristine knew no more than he did. She didn’t know how to fix him. How could he expect her to? She was exhausted; he saw it as soon as she came in. But he was too focused on himself, his own confusion, his own problems to think about it. He hadn’t even thanked her…

But it wasn’t too late.

“Kristine?” Legolas said quietly, coming slowly to the closed door. He stared at the polished wood grains. “I…am sorry.”

Nothing answered.

“Please forgive me?” Legolas mumbled the words. The woman may not understand his tongue, but the guilt eating at him had to say something. She had to hear the penitence in his voice.

Kristy didn’t answer. She was too tired, miserable, and hurt without reason.

“I thank you for what you have done for me.” Legolas murmured more to himself than her. He stared at the carpet under his feet. “I…simply do not know what to do with myself. I have no reason to be here. I know who I should be, yet I am not that person.”

Legolas thought about it, trying to put his feelings into words. “I…I should feel the wind and the sun. I know green and the trees; they should speak to me. And yet, they do not sing. They are smothered in steel and voices that do not listen. I cannot hear even my own mind.”

Legolas lifted a hand, massaging his forehead. He leaned his head on the closed door, whispering. “I am not the same. I am a…a Woodland elf, yet I am not. I know not even what this is. I cannot feel what I am, any longer.”

Then, Legolas lifted his eyes. With a tiny creak, the door cracked open.

“Kristine?” He said softly.

She looked at him…...or his chest, more accurately…through the space. She couldn’t meet his gaze. Her eyes were red and under crumpled fist, her nose was red. She was crying.

“I am sorry.” He murmured.

Kristy mumbled something he didn’t hear. It sounded like a hiccup.

“You look terrible.” Legolas smiled gently, staring at her from the shadowed hall. For the second time that day, it was satisfying to say what he wanted to. No consequences.

“What?”

“You look dreadful, Kristine.” He lifted a palm and carefully pushed the door open a little more. “Absolutely dreadful.”

“I hope you’re not taking advantage of this language gap.” Kristy sniffed, wiping her nose again and guessing at the amused gleam in his eyes. Somehow, as fast as it came, the anger was sapped away into a small, empty hole. It left her feeling deflated, like a sad balloon with not quite enough air to scrape off the ground.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, shaking. “I…I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

“If you apologize, which obviously, I would not understand anyway,” Legolas said flatly, but just as quiet. “…do not. It was my fault.”

Kristy stared at him a minute, finally calm enough to look at his eyes as they focused on her…before smiling weakly.

“You’re wet.”

Legolas blinked.

“You’re really wet and you had pneumonia and-and…” she trailed off. “I’ll go get you a towel.”

Legolas turned, staring after in confusion as she scurried around him and dove into the bathroom. A minute later though, she came out with a warm, dark towel and pushed it into his chest.

“Here.”

He glanced down, staring at it blankly. Was this a response to his apology?

“If you’re hungry again, there’s more gruel.”

 

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The next morning, Legolas was at the kitchen table, eating. Kristine was opposite, painting her face with a mirror and brush. He watched, fascinated and disgusted… A strange place this was.

“I can still see your eyes.” Legolas said flatly, chewing on his dry toast. Unappetizing, but it was food. “Here.” He handed her what looked like a pen. Why not drown them out completely? “More?” he smiled innocently.

She stared at him an instant, blank, before taking the pen.

“Thanks.” She mumbled. “Everyone’s a critique.”

Legolas wasn’t even surprised.

Well, at least this language gap was amusing in morning’s light. He could say with a smile, exactly what he thought of this place. It was good she hadn’t caught on yet.

“So…who do you try to impress with your artistic skills?” he asked innocently, resting his chin in one hand. The drapes were pulled back and morning light flooded the kitchen. He chewed casually.

“You know I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kristy tilted her head from side to side, examining her face from every angle. It was unnerving…that blue eyed, perfect face staring at her. But she did her best to ignore it.

“Really, I’m impressed.” Legolas dropped his hand, taking a sip of juice. It tasted queer, but at least it wasn’t milk. “My caretaker paints murals…on her face. Impressive.” Then he grinned like the legendary Cheshire cat. “And she doesn’t even know it.”

“If you don’t stop talking, I’m putting you on mute.” Kristy answered finally. Legolas’ eyes were alight from within…mischief, intrigue. Who knew what he was talking about?

Legolas just leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.

… And suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Legolas looked up. Strange. He heard the steps coming down the hall, but Kristy seemed oblivious.

“Doc!”

The shout was almost simultaneous. Kristy knocked the mirror over scrambling to get up. The screech hurt his ears! Legolas winced and touched it. _Was he more sensitive to these things, or did these people just bear it?_

Kristy was at the door in a minute, clipping her hair back and unchaining the lock. Outside, an old man was waiting expectantly in the hall.

“Come on in.” Kristy stepped aside, making room. Reiner’s hair was streaked in gray, and he held a small black case of medical supplies. He was nothing if not traditional. “Your patient’s in the other room.” She said when he came inside.

“He’s coherent, then?”

Kristy laughed, side-eyeing the kitchen doorway. “Something like that.”

“Hm. Should be resting.”

Kristy couldn’t see Legolas anymore, and she glanced back to the doctor. “What? Why?”

“Sick boy needs sleep. He shouldn’t be up and about.”

“Well,” Kristy said, taking his coat. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. I already tried yesterday. He stayed up all night watching ‘tel’vision’, as he calls it. He seems fine this morning.”

“Hm…” Reiner’s moustache twitched. “We’ll have to see about that then, won’t we?”

Legolas chose to make an entrance at that point, if that’s what you could call it. He came up behind Kristy and stared at the doctor, eyes wary and cool. This was the man he remembered…the healer.

“Um, Legolas?” Kristy asked carefully, unsure of how to make herself understood. His smile was gone and he was deadly serious. Legolas stared at the man like he was just waiting for the doctor to make a wrong move. “Doc’s just going to check you out, all right?”

Legolas didn’t move.

“Come on...” Reiner had a small voice. Something about his patient’s silent stare did this; he was intimidating awake. The doctor spread a few bottles, a needle, and a stethoscope on the kitchen table anyway.

Legolas still didn’t move.

“Sit!” And then, Reiner made the mistake of turning about with a needle still in hand.

Legolas jerked away and shot a dangerous look, so fierce the little man backpedaled.

“He just wants to make _sure_ you’re all right.” Kristy cut in, touching Legolas’ arm. She pushed the needle out of sight. Legolas didn’t pull away, but he tensed under her hand. “I promise he won’t hurt you.”

True, this healer seemed to help him before…but that didn’t mean it was his intention now. Still, Legolas reluctantly sat in the chair and let Reiner do his business. Kristy watched the whole time, leaning on the wall and folding her arms as he studied Legolas’s eyes, ears, throat.

“He’s a lucky young man.” Reiner muttered after a while, knowing Legolas couldn’t understand him.

“How lucky?”

“Very. Pneumonia often brings complications,” Reiner glanced over, “Barely a week of recovery? With strep throat? I’ve never seen the like of it before, not in my career.”

Kristy didn’t answer, but she processed it to think on later. Reiner, with Legolas’s blue-gray eyes on him every instant, pressed the icy head of a stethoscope to his skin. Kristy caught his shiver at the cold metal, and it made her smile.

Legolas looked so young, sitting there…yet not quite. She stared at him. There was something ageless in his eyes, like he could be a boy of fifteen, or an old man of a hundred. She just couldn’t decide which.

“What do you think I should do with him?” Kristy asked, looking at his pale face and fine hair. He was perfection in its purest form.

“You can’t keep him here.” The doctor peered into Legolas’ eyes with a flashlight. “That’s for certain.”

“No…” Kristy trailed off. “What then?”

“I’ve been thinking on that, Kris.” Reiner paused, glancing up. “On the corner of fifth and main…you know? There’s a homeless shelter there. These people will keep him for a week, no questions asked.”

Kristy looked away.

“The nice thing is they don’t just keep you though.” Reiner continued. “They’ll try and find work suited for him, maybe family ties in the area. Same name? Friends?”

“Yeah…um, I doubt they’ll find anything.”

“Why not?”

“I think…I think he’s an illegal alien.” Kristy confessed. “He didn’t have any identification on him.”

Reiner shrugged. “Could be. Either way, this is the place for him, if you ask me.” Then, the doctor brought the flashlight down from Legolas’ eyes. “Any pain, discomfort in the lungs?”

Legolas leaned back, glancing between them. He wanted to know what they were saying about him, for they were surely discussing him. It frustrated him that he couldn’t.

“Not that I can tell.” She sighed finally, walking over. Kristy touched her throat and her chest questioningly, before wincing. It took a moment, before Legolas realized what she meant and he reluctantly shook his head.

“Amazing. No pain.” And then, Reiner rolled up Legolas’ sleeve and picked up the needle again. He almost hadn’t done it yet, and Legolas bolted to his feet.

“You will not touch me with that!” he snapped out loud, backing away. He didn’t need another ‘shower’ experience. Reiner looked up in shock. The old man was terrified.

_Good_. Legolas was weak, not ill. He didn’t need this healer poking and prodding at him anymore! Much less with some pointed object that was obviously only good for stabbing.

“Legolas…please!” Kristy reached out, looking up with an obviously pleading expression. “H-he knows what he’s doing. Trust me…please. He knows; he can help.”

Her voice made Legolas pause.

“Please…” she said softer, standing where he put the wall at his back for a defense. Her eyes were wide and earnest; they begged him to cooperate. “I know you don’t have to trust me, but Reiner knows what’s best. He just wants to help. Please?”

Legolas hesitated… looking between them.

This woman was unknown to him, like everything else, but she had helped him. She’d given him food when he had none, blankets in the cold. And most of all, through the useless memories of wandering and wretched fear, he now had a place to ground himself. It was distant, but he remembered it still. He had somewhere to brace his feet on and look at the world through clearer eyes.

He owed that to Kristine.

“Very well.” Legolas muttered, dropping into the chair and reluctantly pushing his sleeve up.

Legolas didn’t know why or how the healer stuck him and injected the…something, into him, but it didn’t take long for his eyes to grow heavy.

“Should take a minute or so.” Reiner muttered.

“What will…” Kristy just looked, studying the way Legolas sat in his chair. It was like he could sit there for hours, or if he chose, be on the other side of the room before she could blink. She kept her eyes on him constantly, wanting to catch the movement if he did.

“I’ve given him a strong sedative.” Reiner explained.

Kristy shot her head up. “What?”

“It will make sure he stays out awhile, gets some rest.” Reiner said as he hastily picked up his bag. Legolas’ eyes were growing heavy and he was breathing fast. Something was definitely happening. “…and antibiotics to help keep his lungs clear. When he goes to the shelter, we don’t want him having a relapse. Do we?”

Legolas grimaced as they talked, slowly reaching up to hold his head. _Why was he so tired?_ His eyes felt like lead weights. Their voices were muffled and blurring and- And realization struck.

Damn it! He’d drugged him!

Legolas stumbled to his feet, furious.

“You cursed doctor!” he shouted, suddenly terrified of the blackness closing in. It was coming down faster and faster. He couldn’t control it. He was _tired_ of being unconscious, not knowing what was happening. Legolas needed control, to see his fate. But the world blurred and he lost his balance.

“I…I better go, Kris.”

“You will suffer a fate worse than _death_ if you show your face to me again!” Legolas hissed, stumbling against the wall. It was infuriating. “I’ll see you in the morning!” Reiner waved, scurrying out the door a little nervously at the last, murderous glare shot him from Legolas.

“I wouldn’t recommend it. Just gimme a call!” She shut the door behind him and turned.

“That-” Legolas was on his knees, fighting to stay awake. He’d be damned if he let this have him! “That man will not touch me again. You’ll not let him _in_ here again, Kristine!”

Kristy didn’t know what he was rambling about, but a wave of remorse made her dip to her knees. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going to do that. I swear.” She whispered. Legolas struggled, gripping the floor and the wall.

“Please forgive me. I’m sorry…I didn’t know.”

Legolas shut his eyes tight, trying to ward it off, but it was no use.

And then, somehow he knew this had happened before. It was his first real, concrete memory. A young woman, a healer stitching him back together…and then drugged him, made him pass out! He remembered feeling furious and ashamed at looking so weak, when he was perfectly capable of staying awake and dealing with the pain!

Kristy caught his head as he fell; Legolas’ last sight was a glimpse of her face.

“It’ll be all right.” she whispered soothingly. “You’ll wake up again. You’ll feel better. I promise.”

_Damn you, doctor._ Kristine, why didn’t you tell me? Legolas couldn’t keep thinking, remembering the healer. The darkness was here to stay and he had to give in. He had to. So his eyes slid shut and his body went limp.

Kristy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

She sat on the floor and cradled his head a while, letting his silky blonde hair drain through her fingers. Kristy stared at him, a rush of inexplicable wonder, curiosity sifting through her. His skin was flawless and white; he was perfect. All of the fury, the fear and silent control was gone from him. He didn’t look a hundred anymore; he was ageless. The face that looked at her with such deadly, fathomless eyes was gone… And she knew he wasn’t just angry. Legolas was afraid. He was afraid of the dark. He was afraid of losing himself, losing his way.

And Kristy sighed… He was just a little boy again.

 

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**A/N: Well…here it is. I hope you’re liking so far. Please have a great day readers. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So, I originally wrote these two chapters in one piece. But I thought it gave more to the second chapter to post them separately. Sorry that each one is a little short! Again, thanks for your wonderful reviews Fangirl.Divided, SparkyTAS, Andy the willow treem jshaw0624, Guest, dreamer, Woman of Letters, Amateur Bacon Cook, WyomingCowboy15, and middleagemanager. They were very encouraging. :)**

“There’s no other way!” Kristy said the next morning. It was cold out. Frost clung to the windows and wind buffeted the walls. “You have to go.”

Legolas sat at the kitchen table, awake again, but brooding still over the ‘doctor’ incident. Hot air breathed from the vent in the wall and warmed his hands.

“I’m sorry. You just have to leave.” Kristy was trying to explain. He had to be out of the apartment by evening; she was going to take him to the shelter Reiner recommended. “My land lady has a monthly inspection of the apartment. She’d never understand. You can’t _be_ here when she gets there. I’m not allowed to live with anyone but my dog.”

Legolas looked at her, trying to decide what she was apologizing for. Kristine said ‘sorry’ so many times to him that morning, he’d somehow managed to guess its meaning. He appreciated the clothes she’d fit him with though…a coat, pants, shirt. They fit nearly perfectly, and Legolas folded his hands on the kitchen table, dressed in a loose, dark cotton shirt and jeans.

“Here, eat some breakfast.” She came over with a plate of pancakes.

“Lle hannon.” He murmured.

Legolas stared at her as he chewed the strange, sweet cakes. Kristine was pacing constantly. Her face was flushed, and the messy bun on her neck kept coming undone. She was shoving pans and clattering dishes uselessly, like she wanted something to throw and could not. Kristine was upset.

“Listen.” She spun around, clutching a spatula dripping oil on the floor. “I-I really don’t think you’re a criminal or a serial killer, anything like that. I really don’t. I…just can’t help you anymore. Understand?”

Legolas paused in his food, looking up.

Morning sunlight streamed into the kitchen. Lacy whispers of frost froze to the window panes and dripped from the eaves. Kristy was still in her pajamas. Black smudges were under her eyes, tangled hair the color of bleached elm in the sun. Something was wrong. Something was going to happen today… Somehow, Legolas had a feeling he knew what it was.

“I-I just don’t know what else to do.” She whispered, turning away. “I mean you can’t stay here! My sister would think you’re my boyfriend. My land lady, she already doesn’t like me. She’d kick me out. I…” Kristy shook her head, pushing the hair out of her face. She tried to cook and wash dishes at the same time. It made a sudsy, sloppy mess.

“I mean, you’ll be fine at the shelter. Maybe they’ll find a job for you, or…well, I don’t know. Something. I j-just can’t-” Kristy covered her face, panting. She couldn’t stop shaking. _Why?_ Why did it feel like so much depended on this one decision? He was just someone, an anyone. It shouldn’t matter! But it did.

Slowly, Legolas got up. “Kristine.”

Kristy spun around, sniffing…before looking up in surprise. Legolas was there. He stood calmly, hands at his sides. His eyes focused on her, warm and steady.

“You have done much for me, more than you know. I thank you for this.”

“I-I don’t understand you.” she sniffed miserably.

So, Legolas reached up and cupped her flushed, tear-stained face in his hands.

Her turmoil was his fault; Legolas knew this without a doubt. He didn’t know how, but he knew she was trying to say farewell. The thought of it…wandering strange city streets, knowing he didn’t belong here, knowing nothing but his name and a language no one understood…it made a sick pit in his stomach. There were no trees, no stars. Legolas felt panic rise, uncontrollable fear. He felt sick. The thought made him want to vomit. But he didn’t show this.

His face was a mask.

“ _Namaarie_ , Kristine.” Legolas murmured.

“I…I guess that’s goodbye?” She whispered.

Legolas thought about it. “Goodbye.”

Kristy nodded a little. A few moments passed and he dropped his hand from her face... They regarded each other.

Somehow, days of caring for him, stroking his hair, worrying for a stranger she knew nothing about…it made Kristy feel attached to him. It was ridiculous. She shouldn’t worry about him. He would be fine. He would be happy. He just needed a little time, a little… _Oh, why bother?_ The guilt ate at her like a monster.

Legolas had no friends here. He had no place to go. He was going to be alone in the great city. Somehow, the man knew what she was going to do, too. And yet, he accepted it. He didn’t want to be the cause of her troubles. It was selfless and beautiful.

Legolas tilted his head slightly, enough to look in her eyes. She was a strange little she-human. But hers was the only face he’d managed to print on his mind. She was familiar. He’d listened to her voice in a sick delirium for days. She was Kristine.

“It seems I have little choice but to trust you, Kristine.” He said more to himself than her. “I pray you make the right decision.”

“I wish I knew what you were saying…” Kristy mumbled in response, staring at the floor. “I guess I’ll never know now.”

Legolas just looked. Kristy wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I-I should go get dressed.”

And she finally made a move to leave. Legolas shifted aside. It was a very slow walk to her bedroom. She turned the stove off, wiped some spilled batter. She looked back once…twice, three times, looking at him stare after with a hollow, empty expression. It was all he could feel.

“I won’t be long.”

And she was gone. Legolas walked numbly to the table and collapsed into the chair, or fell... He didn’t know. He didn’t care. It felt like he lived this again and again, over and over. His emotions were confused and overtossed; his past life was like a dream. A dream you knew you had, yet just couldn’t quite remember. It was growing increasingly frustrating.

And worse yet, he was leaving. He didn’t know where, but he could stay no longer. _What would happen to him then?_

“So, um…come on, I guess.” Kristy said when she came out, buttoning her coat.

Legolas looked up. The black was washed from her cheeks and a tangled braid fell down one shoulder. The hair so frequently in Kristine’ eyes was tucked behind her ears. He sighed. Maybe wherever the woman planned to take him, they knew where the ‘Woodland Realm’ was, maybe how to get there. Maybe he could finally go home.

“We’d better get going. Want a good seat, right?” Kristy half-smiled…And then it faded. _Oh…what was the use?_

She spent the night staring at the wall, hating herself for what she planned to do. She hated herself for finding something that she couldn’t understand… _wanted_ to understand, and for throwing it away before she could. But it wouldn’t do any good. She felt like an ungrateful, miserable wretch. Nothing was going to change that.

“Here’s your coat.” She whispered, handing it to him. Legolas took it. He didn’t need her to, but she slipped the buttons closed and the zipper up his chest. He’d never seen a zipper…It was fascinating. But he watched her instead. He wanted to know how and why, what she was doing to him. Why wherever they were going was where he should be. He stared at her every moment as she carefully, reluctantly tied the belt around his waist.

“All done.”

They didn’t take the elevator. The power was on again, but Kristy decided on the stairs…all twenty five flights. It was easier going down than up anyway, and she was stalling. She knew it and she didn’t care.

“It was nice having you here.” Kristy said quietly as they walked. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t understand. “And…and I’m glad I met you.”

Legolas looked over, and at her solemn expression, nodded slightly.

They walked the two miles to the homeless shelter in rush-hour traffic. A gust of cold air hit his face and he breathed it in. Legolas looked at it all with a keen, more focused eye. He saw what he thought were steel giants, and they were in fact, great buildings reaching into the sky. The machines--cars, Kristine called them--came from nowhere and disappeared again in a constant, busy swarm. It was all very chaotic.

“See when the light’s red, then turns to green?” Kristy said, pointing at the streetlights and the signs.

Then, watching the colors change… Legolas realized it was not actually utter chaos. Signals and lights regulated them somehow, told them when to stop and go. The shining black windows in the cold sunlight, the faces walking past, their eyes straight ahead…revolving doors spitting people out and swallowing them whole again…It was fantastic! But it couldn’t distract him long. He didn’t want to be here. More than that, he didn’t want to be here alone.

It was bringing back floods of memories, feelings. He didn’t want this again.

“I guess this is it?” Kristy asked, peering at a sign nailed to the wall.

Legolas looked at Kristine. She wouldn’t look around her long though, afraid she’d change her mind.

Inside…there was a mass of people. Not shabby, homeless people typical of movies in fingerless gloves, gray coats and ripped hats. They were all fairly normal…but they all had one thing in common. They were alone and destitute. They carried bedrolls with them, looked at the world with empty, forgotten eyes. Those with cars ate in them. Families stayed together.

This was who the man was…It was where he belonged. Right?

Legolas went inside. Folding tables and chairs cluttered the hard floor. People were everywhere. A line of thirty people shuffled on their feet at the food counter; the menu was chicken and white macaroni. They talked constantly. They moved constantly.

“Next!”

Legolas wanted to cover his ears at the din they made. The clattering trays and shouting voices were like a cacophony of confusion. He looked around, rooted to the floor and barely able to believe his eyes. _Oh Kristine._ Legolas thought in horror. _This is where you’re taking me?_ What was this place? Where humans came to live their last…cough out a few more days of meager existence?

Kristy glanced around once, feeling the guilt consume her completely. But it was no use. There was nothing else to do. Besides, this was where the man would be if she hadn’t run into him! Surely, she’d helped him when she took him in. That was enough…wasn’t it?

Slowly, Legolas shifted a few steps forward. He made himself do it, accepting but not fully realizing what was happening to him.

“Legolas…?” Kristy whispered.

He turned at his name, a brief hope flaring. She wasn’t going to do this to him…surely not yet. Not until he could learn something, remember, know where he was? Not until he could claw his way back to the surface and find a way back home!

But she was.

“Here’s… some stuff.” Kristy said quietly. “Um…toothbrush and some food, a flashlight. Stuff.”

Legolas didn’t even move. He just stared at her. _Why_ … _how could she?_

“Here’s some money. It-it might help, when you need it.” She tucked the bills in his coat pocket. Her heart pounded in her ears and she couldn’t stop shaking.

_Why does he look at me like that?_ Kristy looked up at him. _It’s because you’re a heartless monster._ It was because he wouldn’t show it, not yet, but Legolas knew just how selfish she was. Kristy knew it too, and she hated herself for it _._

And then, Legolas turned away. There wasn’t any point prolonging this.

“Legolas, I’m sorry!” she proclaimed an instant before catching him and grabbing him in a hug. She did her best, but it only ended up choking him. “I’m sorry.” She whispered into his neck. “I really am! Oh please…please take care of yourself.”

If she was apologizing so fiercely, why did she do this to him? Legolas wondered fiercely. He wished to _ask_ her this. He didn’t want to embrace her. It was the _last_ thing he wanted. He wanted answers! Legolas wanted someone to tell him how to go home, how to get away from here as fast and as easily as possible.

And so, Kristy pulled back and wiped her nose, dropping her head in shame. Legolas just stared at her an instant, before gently pushing her away.

“Go, if you must.” he muttered. “I will not burden you further.”

“Goodbye…” she waved meekly, and then, Kristy scurried out the door and didn’t look back.

Legolas stood alone, a miserably small pack on the floor beside him. He was tall, taller than the crowd, but lean. The noise of these homeless, eating people was constant. They filled his head with what they had…no pride, no hope, no way of going home. And suddenly, Legolas felt forlorn and abandoned.

It was disgraceful.

Kristy cursed bitterly walking home. She cursed when she slipped on the ice, when her elbows crashed into the pavement and she wanted to cry. She cursed even harder when she waved down a taxi and road home…warm, safe, secure. Kristy was a rat, an ungrateful selfish rat. That’s exactly what she was. She didn’t deserve the things she had! Yes, she worked hard. She got somewhere by using what she had…She took responsibility for others, school, work. But she never could have done it alone. She had people…parents, friends, co-workers. Help!

Legolas had no one. And Kristy left him that way.

 

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	5. Chapter 5

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      Darkness…

      Yellow and ruby blurs filled the night. Legolas stood on a bridge, looking out over the whipping hum of a freeway. There were no voices here, only the constant row upon row of white, red…white…red… It never stopped. The bridge where he stood, suspended by cables in the night sky, hung over the distant traffic. Even here, he couldn’t see the stars. They were distant, lonely lights. They weren’t there for him. They were memory, bittersweet, something he couldn’t remember and couldn’t have.

A distant honk broke into his reverie and he blinked, looking down. These ‘cars’ were a blasphemy to nature itself. They were loud, smelled of steel and foul fumes; they were the voices of a thousand things he didn’t know. But they didn’t feel alive. They just…were. Even when he saw face upon face in their dark windows, he couldn’t think of them as souls.

It was cold out.

Legolas shivered, his fingers icy. Miserable. Dark. Lonely. The wind blustered past and bit at his ears. And still he didn’t regret leaving the shelter. Damn that place. It wasn’t where he belonged! Curse Kristine for leaving him there.

If she was going to abandon him, leave him to fend for himself, then…then just leave him on a street corner! Have the decency to do what she wanted instead of comforting her _own_ conscience with those pathetic platitudes of ‘kindness’. He didn’t belong there.

Legolas wasn’t homeless; he had no home. He wouldn’t beg, even if he was a beggar. He needed help, but he wasn’t helpless. It wasn’t fair.

Legolas pulled the green bills out of his pocket, staring at them. ‘Mo-nie’ was what she called it. _This was what she left him?_ Legolas looked at it, gripping it in his fists, before throwing it angrily over the bridge. He didn’t need it! He didn’t want it.

_And what_ do _you want?_ An annoying voice asked him.

Legolas reluctantly thought about it. He wanted home; he knew that. He wanted trees, the stars. He wanted to feel the warmth of the sun on his face and…and the living room with the ‘tel’vision’ and bowl of gruel. It was amazing. He thought that place of wonder and horror was terrible. But now…it was all he thought of. It made him bitter.

_Why didn’t he just jump from this very bridge?_ The small voice asked. _Why not?_ Legolas wondered himself. He stared out over the city, gripping his hands. It wouldn’t help; that’s why. It was the easy way out. Maybe some thought it wasn’t, that just…ending it all… was the brave thing. Some thought it was courage.

But it wasn’t.

Living was harder. Fighting the battle, every day, every hour, was harder. It was a fight Legolas was determined not to lose. He would fight to his last breath, even if that was all he had when it was finished…his last breath.

Kristine.

Why did she do it? Why did she abandon him? Even now, memories sifted down through his mind. He remembered sun and cold, dark and warmth. His very essence was beginning to seep through him again. He felt things he’d felt before. He knew things. Indeed, his name was Legolas. He was an elf…or at least, he should be. He was different than these earthlings.

Kristine. _Why did you do it?_

If only she’d waited, waited until he learned this strange tongue. If only she waited until he told her who he was, how he couldn’t stay here. Maybe she would have listened…

Well, it was too late now.

Legolas pushed away from the rail, standing alone in the night a long moment…before walking away. He walked himself into a daze. It was the first night since Kristine left him. It felt like an eternity. He was hungry and thirsty. All through the city, Legolas searched for something, anything to jog his memory, something to help. But he found nothing.

As for the people, only the children showed any interest in him at all. Blocks barred the streets some places. He had to avoid them. Soldiers combed the streets; he didn’t let them see him. They were danger..

_Well_ …he decided sometime in the night, at least he knew one thing now. The only reason Kristine helped him at all was that she crashed her vehicle into him. No one travelling these streets cared, not even a little. Neither did she. If she cared, she wouldn’t have dumped him in a beggar’s hell. It made him feel terribly alone, and vastly un-special.

Maybe he didn’t matter, after all.

And suddenly…Legolas froze. He dragged himself out of the black thoughts and looked around. The city was different here. The houses were older; trash littered the streets. It was…darker.

“Hey, Jamie!”

Legolas looked up.

“Well lookie here…”

It was an apartment complex of old, broken bricks. Legolas hadn’t realized it before, but the street was deserted. No one was here. He had no weapon. Legolas started walking again…he kept going. Maybe it was best he didn’t linger.

“Hey, come here. Come here, girl!”

But it was too late for that. A shrill scream shattered the night air and Legolas shot his head up.

“Get off of me. Help! He-”

Legolas broke into a run. It happened too fast to think. He didn’t let himself think. He only reacted. There were five…four men. Two short, two tall, and a woman between them. He bolted down the alley as deft and silent as a cat.

“Come on, honey. Give us some!”

“I’m _not_ your honey, you bas-”

And Legolas appeared. The woman was rammed into the wall. It was a wet, brick alley and blackness, too dark to see. Her attackers were jeering and throwing a bottle between them. Legolas didn’t hesitate.

He took the first down by leaping and skidding on the brick street, spitting up water and kicking the legs out from under him. It was confusion. Legolas leapt and twisted his arm around a man’s neck. A sharp gasp of surprise came out of him and Legolas grabbed his neck. The woman was screaming; her coat was on the wet street. Jamie’s friends were shouting. One pull! It would take just one pull to snap the man’s neck.

But Legolas stopped.

_Was he a killer?_ He should murder the filth for what they were doing here. He deserved to die! But he hesitated… _Was he a killer?_ Had he killed before? Legolas knew it was yes. But in that instant, he wanted to know if he would kill again, if it would be this man that would die. And that instant was all it took.

“Get him!”

Jamie staggered back and someone hit him in the face. Legolas’ head made impact on the brick with a sharp _crack_. They were on him before he could jump to his feet, but he managed to dive between the scrambling bodies.

“Run!” Legolas shouted at the woman. She didn’t understand, but she spun around and bolted, disappearing in the night. Legolas was alone.

A sudden premonition flew him to the ground and he rolled over, just in time for the slash of a knife to sing over his head. It was a blur, but so was he. He grabbed one’s arms and used it as leverage to leap through their bodies. The world was spinning and he couldn’t breathe. His reflexes were slow, slower than they should be. The wet air was making him cough. _Why?_ He didn’t have time to wonder.

Legolas kicked the legs out from the nearest and scrambled to his feet. Suddenly, he was surrounded. He looked around, back against the wall.

“Well look where she went, boys!” A husky voice came, and a fist came down on his chest. Legolas slammed into the wall, gasping in pain and shock. The wind knocked out of his lungs. A face pulled him close and Legolas grimaced, fighting the grip and foul breath.

“Pretty boy…Aren’t we nice? What’ve you got for me?”

And it was chaos. Legolas leapt, hair flying. Moonlight glinted off the knives and he felt blood in his hands. He didn’t know if it was his or not. Twice he avoided a jab to his belly. He didn’t have time to think; he fought. They tried to catch him again, slashed at his face, but he ripped away just in time. When the three kept him against the wall, the other took a reprieve. He felt a sharp sting graze his side and he knew he was hit; he ignored it.

Legolas wrenched a knife out of one’s hand and managed to send him flying into the wall. _One down._ He took the other and used the back of his skull to knock him out, dazed. _Two._ But just when he saw the break he needed and he was going to run for it…something shook. It was instant and sudden.

The ground!

“What the-” a voice choked and they staggered, shouting in terror.

Legolas grabbed the ground for support. It was vibrating…trembling. The roar of a thousand winds ripped through the clouds and Legolas shook his head, panting. Sweat and sleet ran down his face; he choked on his own air. _What happened?_

The earthquake shook violently through the city. Freezing rain shattered on steel, exploded in a sudden rush of droplets. Legolas fought for his balance, before staggering upright. Flames...Lightning! It was rippling through the clouds like wildfire. _What happened?_ Where was it coming from?

And then, he looked up.

_Elbereth…_

What he saw made nothing else matter. It was a burst of light, as if a spinning orb of white shone from the clouds and they spiraled out of control. Black and white ran from sky to earth like a tornado, but it didn’t move. It spun and roared, shook the very earth…two…three…four of them!

Legolas gasped. His eyes spun and reeled, but he knew what he saw. Even as the storm raged on, as quickly as it roared to life, the lights snapped closed and there was nothing.

_Sweet Eru._

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

     **A/N: Well, this installment is a bit longer than the last one. Chapter length is going to have to vary anywhere from maybe…2500 - 5000 words? Makes it easier to break up in good spots.**

**Of course, thank you for the reviews Scylla’s revenge, wickedGreene13, Andy the willow tree, Fangirl.Divided, SparkyTAS, jshaw0624, Guest, dreamer, Woman of Letters, Amateur Bacon Cook, WyomingCowboy15, and middleagemanager. If I’ve not answer them all, I meant to and I thank you now. :))**

 

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“Kristy… _Anderson,_ is it?” Mrs. Pumpet clicked her pen and checked something off on a clipboard.

Kristy stared at her. “I’ve lived here for three years… You know my name.”

“Three years..? Huh, seems like longer.” The landlady came down the hall on heels that made her body waddle in a funny way. But Kristy didn’t laugh or even smile. According to the lease, damage to the apartment made her qualify for ‘removal’, as well as the next month’s rent for repairs on said damage.

This woman held livelihood in the palm of her hand.

“Let’s get to the inspection.”

“In there...” Kristy sighed

She didn’t want to be here. It happened every month; she should be used to it by now. But she wasn’t.

“Where’s that dog of yours?” Mrs. Pumpet went into the kitchen, ticking things noisily off on a board. Kristy leaned against the wall, looking through the windows.

“She was at the vet. I’m picking her up tomorrow.”

“No scratched out walls?”

She shook her head, staring out the glass.

“No torn furniture, broken pipes, clogged drains?”

Kristy shook her head again… _I wonder where he is right now..._

Pumpet poked at a few holes in the wall where pictures used to hang, making the pricks more prominent. She examined the ceiling, looked down the sink. Kristy stood by, staring. Seconds were hours. Hours were days. _What was he doing right now?_ She wondered.

“How about the bathroom?”

… It would be getting cold out. Dark, too. _How cold would it get?_ No one seemed to know. The news said it was the storms; the police said it wasn’t. It didn’t matter. Maybe it would drop to freezing… Maybe it would hit zero.

_What would happen to him then?_ Would his coat be enough?

Pumpet turned around, before glaring over the rims of her peaked glasses. Kristy was staring emptily out the glass. “Are you _listening_ to me, Anderson?”

“How long could someone survive out there…at night?” Kristy whispered. She gazed out at the black clouds in the east…the sun dropping from the horizon. It was just a dead, white glow. Frost froze to the window in icy webs.

Dark. Cold… _Alone_. Was he all right? Was he hungry, thirsty?

Kristy saw him. His blue-gray eyes staring at her back, watching her escape…She saw his mouth clamped tight, hands in limp fists. She saw a thousand things run and flicker through his eyes, but he didn’t break down and beg. He didn’t ask for anything…not a single thing.

And suddenly, Pumpet snapped her fingers. Kristy jumped.

“W-what? What is it?”

“The _bathroom_ , Anderson, the bathroom; pronto!”

“The bathroom… right. This way.” Kristy shook her head, trying to push Legolas out of her mind. There was _nothing_ else she could do for him. He couldn’t stay. _How could he?_ It was stupid.

“In here.” Kristy said breathlessly. There just wasn’t enough air. It was like an anxious fever that she tried to keep down and couldn’t… She kept remembering his face when she left him…the miserable pack on the floor. How he just stared at her, watched her leave.

Oh, what did it matter? She left him. It was over and done with.

“…and that dog has been digging up the linoleum again-…”

Kristy gripped the windowsill, looking searchingly through the shades. It was so busy out… Traffic was everywhere. And it was dark out, cold too. _At least he’ll be safe at the shelter._ Kristy tried to console herself. He’d be warm, dry, fed. He’d be all right…

_Wouldn’t he?_

“-and when she gets back from the vet you’d better-”

And it was too much. Pumpet’s voice, the scratching pen, the cold clinging to the walls from outside…Kristy snapped.

“Shut up, already!” She burst out, spinning around.

Pumpet blinked.

“I mean…” she gasped. “I mean I’m sorry. I…I have to go. I have to go!” _What was she saying?_ Kristy froze then, realizing exactly what she said. She was leaving. She had to fix the mess she made.

And Kristy was running for her coat. It wasn’t too late. It wasn’t!

_How could I do it?_

Legolas was alone. She remembered it all too well…frustrated, disappointed, miserable. He was afraid and too strong to show it. He was angry and too ashamed, too proud to show that either. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t next to helpless out there. _Why_ did she do it?

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

Even as she ran to pull on her boots, she raced for a way. There was always a way. Always. _The roll-away couch…_ he could sleep there. Clothes _,_ more money…she’d take Corby, her boss, up on his offer. She’d do the accounting for the store.

Kristy tried to turn the corner, but she slipped on the carpet and crashed to the floor. She was banging feverishly on the elevator button before she could even get her coat back. She left it.

“Oh please, please still be there…” she whispered. Kristy rode all the way to the bottom. From there, her car started on the first try. _Story?_ Well, he could be her cousin, or long lost brother, friend of a friend of a friend. Who cared? She’d get him back. That was all that mattered.

When the building came into view, she squealed into the ‘disabled parking’ slot and didn’t care. She was shaking. Kristy ran into the crowded door, aimed for the counter, and she struck every person on the way. There was a woman there, mid-twenties maybe. “Where is he?” she panted. “Where is he? A man…long blonde hair! He was tall, dressed in a gray-belted coat, boots. Have you seen him?”

“Long blonde hair, huh…Kind of pale? Eyes like, wow, so deep.” She smiled dreamily. “Oh yeah…I saw him.”

“Well, where _is_ he?” Kristy hit the countertop in frustration. The woman was infuriatingly calm. “What happened to him?”

“Well actually, I saw him leave here quite a few hours ago.” she confessed. Then ‘Amy’ her name tag said, blew a fluff of hair back and smirked. “I’ve hung around a little to see if he comes back.”

_No…_ she was too late. He was already gone? He’s wandering the city alone! Legolas couldn’t speak to anyone. He couldn’t get a job. _Oh, why didn’t that man have the sense to stay here?_

“Which way did he go?” Kristy ignored the protesting calls behind her, telling her to get back in line. “Right or left? Please, please tell me.”

“Hm…right, I think.” Amy shrugged, before shaking her head and waving Kristy on. “I don’t know. Come on. Move along, lady. You’ve got a line behind you.”

Kristy grimaced in frustration, before turning around and bursting back out the door. She looked back and forth. _Right, huh?_ Well she’d go right. She’d search the entire city if she had to. If he crossed the river and made it to St. Paul, she’d find him there too.

And then, a thought struck her. The police…they would pick him up before he made it that far. He didn’t have any identification. The army was posted on all the bridges at the river and the capitol. She should have thought of this hours ago, days ago!

_What would they do with him?_

Kristy wasn’t willing to find out. She didn’t care about the consequences anymore. She couldn’t stand this terrible guilt; she wanted to get him back and feed him. She wanted to talk to him and see his strange, blue-gray eyes peer at her with a cool depth she couldn’t understand. Kristy wanted to know what Legolas tried to tell her, why he was sick and wandering.

Kristy was walking determinedly back to her car. It was raining out, sleeting in icy curtains. Her mind was set on the car, speeding away, on finding him no matter what. But then…something broke that. It crackled and snapped faintly through the dark. She managed to listen to it a moment. It was wrong for this temperature… _thunder?_ How could it be thundering? Construction maybe...

But that wasn’t possible! It was too dark out.

And then, Kristy froze, looking around. _Thunder._ It wasn’t thunder. It was too cold. She couldn’t make out the sky anymore; the buildings blocked it out in clouds. She couldn’t see… And then there was a ripple, a shifting in the air. She felt it in the wind. It was charged and electrified…like before a storm.

Kristy looked down, terrified. The cement shuddered under her feet; she felt it rock and tremble. _What was happening?_ Was this what the news was talking about? Storms…earthquakes…why the national guard were taking matters in their own hands?

It didn’t make sense!

The sound of rushing air and thunder grew to a crescendo somewhere in the building tops. Kristy dove to the street and covered her head, letting the asphalt shake and quiver like a leaf in the wind. It didn’t crack or break, but the deep shudder was there and…and then gone?

Kristy looked up through her hands, soaking wet and shaking in fear. Sleet poured from the skies now and gushed down the gutters. It didn’t take long for screams and the sound of honks to echo through the night. Lights--yellow, white, red--all through the city went out. Police sirens. Ambulance screams…

Legolas!

Kristy bolted to her feet, before scrambling with the car door and getting inside. Legolas was out there! He was somewhere in a panicking city of thousands where no one understood him. He could be hurt, injured. He could be _killed._

Street after street passed. She searched the faces, every store-front. A few lights were still on, reserve power maybe. In the dark, headlights were everywhere. They were on and glaring off the wet streets. Bodies were melting into one…running, shouting, diving into buildings…and she couldn’t see. Brown heads, dark heads, red-heads…no one that was Legolas. The whole city was shut down! How was it possible?

It was too late for panic. Panic was there and gone. It wasn’t the right word anyway. Terror, that was what made her search. She had to find him. It seemed like hours of near-miss collisions, honks. The traffic lights were out, even some of the street lamps. She thought she’d never find him.

And then…they were there.

It was a deserted back street, just a few miles from work. Kristy saw something happening up ahead and she focused. They were police. They were shouting and people were between them, men…hoodies, knives. Suddenly, a familiar blonde head appeared between them and Kristy gasped. As luck or kind fate would have it, one of them was her stranger.

“Legolas!” Kristy pulled over and scrambled into the passenger seat. She didn’t know what happened, or why police were grabbing down four men in the night…but Legolas shouldn’t be here. They were in a scuffle; they couldn’t see in the dark. Kristy switched her headlights off so they couldn’t.

“Legolas, get in!” she shouted, flinging the door open. The police, three of them were in the fight. But at her voice, they broke off a little. Legolas whirled around in surprise.

“Hey!” One of the police shouted. “Get away from here. Get back.”

“Legolas!” Legolas glared almost as fiercely at Kristine, which said something. She didn’t have time to wonder why. “Legolas, get in the car. Quick!”

She wanted him? She came after him _now_? This woman was just too much.

“You made your feelings _very_ clear to me, Kristine.” He said angrily and fought back. Legolas was backed into a corner now; he looked back and forth, panting, looking for an escape.

Oh, Kristy didn’t need a translator for that. She leaned over from the drivers’ seat, unable to believe he’d take the police over her. _Did he_ want _to get arrested?_ Didn’t he know this was not the time to get involved with the government? Not when the city was terrified and panicking.

So was Kristy.

“You have to come with me.” she hit the steering wheel in frustration. “Don’t be stubborn _now_ of all times!”

“I am not a puppy to be abandoned and picked up again!” he shouted angrily at her. Legolas struggled harder and swore. “You don’t own me.”

“ _Legolas_!” she fairly screamed. “I’m sorry for what I did.” she snapped and pleaded at the same time. “Please…just come on. Get in the car.”

And then, there was a break. They weren’t looking and their hands were full with the others… He didn’t have a choice.

Legolas grimaced, before shoving through them and running to the curb. He fairly threw himself into the passenger seat, and Kristy slammed the door shut after him. Then, without even telling him to brace himself, she stomped on the gas and sped away.

“I said I was sorry, for God’s sake.” Kristy hissed as they swerved onto the highway. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

_They were moving so fast._ Legolas grabbed his seat in shock, staring at the buildings in the night-darkness, flashing past in a blur. _Sweet Eru._ This was what riding in the swarms of steal monsters was like? _Why did he agree to this?_ His heart beat wildly in his ears…but whether it was from the storming lights that rocked the world or their incredible speed, he didn’t know.

Kristy tried to glance over, concentrating on the road and slowing down, before fumbling with her seatbelt. “Are you all right?”

Legolas didn’t answer.

She wanted to shout at him now, make him talk and _make_ him understand. But he wasn’t deaf. She motioned hard with her hands in an outward, circular motion. Legolas knew very well what she meant.

“I am uninjured.” he growled.

And then, Kristy caught side of his hands. She almost swerved into the ditch. “Oh, oh my god... You’re bleeding. Th-those men…four men, were you _fighting_ them?”

Legolas clenched his bloody fingers and snapped his arms closed, hiding his slashed side. “Do not even _pretend_ to care for my well-being, Kristine. And why are you here at all?” he snapped, glaring fiercely at her. “Did the quakes _frighten_ you?”

Kristy didn’t know what he was saying. The tires squealed in the rain pounding off the windshield and she panted, trying to stay in control. They turned onto an off-ramp that led home. Somehow, she had a feeling he was swearing at her.

“Or did you forget something, maybe?” Legolas pressed. “Like maybe a ‘best wishes’ on your way out?”

“Be quiet!” She snapped, squinting through the dark. She could barely even see, much less hear. Headlights were everywhere, glinting and reflecting off the rain. People were everywhere and she almost hit them. “Oh…” she laughed, terrified, “unless you want to get _arrested_ again _,_ that is. Brilliant move, by the way!”

Legolas fumed, staring out the window. Panic made him want to grab onto the car door, but he wouldn’t. He refused. He didn’t cower in the storm; he wouldn’t now. The steel beast sped faster and faster.

It was a long time before Kristy talked again, and her pounding heartbeat subsided a little. They were on the highway again and the streets were clear of people. “…Are you hungry?”

Nothing but the roar of traffic outside answered. Nothing but the glow of the console and flashing streetlights lit his face.

“Have you _eaten_?” She looked over, and then looked again. She couldn’t see more than his profile. He glared out the windshield, deadly silent. Oh, just answer! She was terrified and angry enough in herself, without taking his too.

Searching noisy, dark streets made Legolas this way. He was shocked at first, understood that she wouldn’t want this burden. But the longer he went, listening to chaos that hurt his ears, the more he didn’t care that he was selfish. He felt like a vagabond, some worthless creature wandering the streets.

It was maddening, infuriating…and he was miserable. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he remembered. The trembling earth…the columns of light twisting from sky to earth. It was all too real, all too familiar. He couldn’t understand, not quite yet, but they were crucial. It was angering that he couldn’t remember why.

Then, Kristy dug a candy bar out of the console and offered it to him.

Legolas politely declined by snorting and looking away. _She was thinking about food?_ She thought he’d actually _accept_ food from her?

Kristy just looked away. Why was he doing this now? They were lucky to be alive! With her luck, he’d pass out from low blood sugar and she wouldn’t be able to get him out of the car.

“Come on, Legolas.” She pushed it into his lap. “Just eat.”

“I want nothing from you.”

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked sharply. “I _told_ you I was sorry. You can’t even _eat?_ I know you haven’t, already! The shelter said you left hours ago.”

“I don’t want your pity!” Legolas shot back. He didn’t care that he was arguing with someone he couldn’t even understand. “And I don’t care for your change of heart, either. I will find my way home with or without your help, _Kristine_. You made it _very_ clear this morning that it would be without.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Legolas.” she shook her head. Kristy pulled into the parking lot by then. She’d managed to make it home without hitting anything. The sirens were still screaming, but she blocked it out. She was shaking; Legolas was bleeding. There wasn’t any time.

“Come on.”

Legolas wasn’t sure why he fought with the door release, got out, and slammed the door shut. He wondered even harder why he stalked after her to the ‘moving box’, where it would carry him up…up…all the way to the twenty-fifth floor. Kristine was here out of guilt. He shouldn’t walk her floors or take her pathetic help.

But he did. He knew he was shaking and couldn’t stop. His nerves were like frayed wire. Legolas was too angry, cold and upset to think of a better option.

“Drat.” Kristy pushed the wet hair out of her face. She stood before the closed door, clicking the button. But nothing happened. No lights, no cheerful _ding._ Nothing. Legolas held his side, grimacing at the prospect.

“The power’s out of the elevator.”

It meant twenty-five flights of stairs to climb.

 

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Dark...

The living room was still and quiet. Only the heat of the fire lapped at the walls. It threw gentle, flickering shadows down the carpet, black and faint splashes of orange over the floor. No other light was in the room. Outside…wind blew in a steady, hushed murmur around the complex…The honks and sirens had died down some.

Legolas sat cross-legged near the fireplace, bare chested and slowly feeling warmth tingle through his limbs. It warmed his ears and brushed his face. The heat lapped at his skin. And here, stories above it all, it was quiet. Peaceful quiet. Only the steady, _snap crack_ of the fire broke it…

It was just a few hours now, but it felt like an eternity since he stood in the rain…looking up at the ripped, torn sky. Legolas remembered the fear and chaos still, but it was quieter now. He could think. He could reason. And now, he wasn’t altogether sure if what he saw was real or not.

He stared into the dancing flames, watching the wood grow black and break, char white and turn to ash.

“Can… I see your hand again, please?”

Legolas didn’t move from the fire. Kristy knelt down somewhere, fidgeting in the blur of his peripheral vision. He knew well what she wanted…and he thought about refusing. But he didn’t. Instead, he lifting his hand, palm up.

A cardboard box sported his clothes near the flames. They were almost dry again; the power was still out. Instead, he wore Reiner’s pants. His wet hair slowly dried in the lapping heat of the fire… Kristine dabbed at his palm with a cotton swab. The peroxide stung and sizzled on his skin, but he ignored it. She trembled; she dropped the cotton twice and scrubbed the salt out of her eyes. He ignored that too.

A few minutes passed. Kristy sniffed and swallowed. She rubbed her nose, tried to steady her hands, before whispering shakily. “This…this should have stitches. But I can’t do it. And I think the emergency room will be full w-with…the earthquake, and-and everything.”

Legolas didn’t answer.

So, she dropped her eyes. The room was dark and she sat on her knees beside him. She couldn’t look up. Kristy crunched her eyebrows together, concentrating on the wounds instead.

Both Legolas’ hands were slashed, one deeper than the other… A jagged cut raked across his ribs on one side. It was ugly and black now. With a blood-soaked rag, an onion skin, and a slice of Aloe Vera plant, it had finally stopped bleeding enough to clean. The hour that neither Legolas nor Kristy could stop it was a terrifying one. But Legolas barely flinched.

It just upset her more… It was like he didn’t feel. Like he wanted to show her just how silent he could be.

His mouth was a thin, tight line.

Kristy put butterfly stitches where she could, strips of tape to keep the injuries from opening again. Her hands still shook, but she worked past it. When it was finished though, when she couldn’t fidget with him any longer, pretend to be busy no matter how hard she tried… she had nothing to do with her hands.

“The anti-biotic cream will m-make it feel better soon.” she bit the inside of her lip. Kristy looked painfully at the clean slice up the inside of his fingers…like he’d caught a knife in his hand and it had been ripped away. The thought was sickening. It made her want to vomit.

But that wouldn’t help.

So…another minute of absolute silence passed, and Kristy tried to lift her eyes. Legolas just stared at the fire with an empty, cold expression on his face. The flames reflected in his eyes red on blue, like fire on a lake. They were fathomless, shimmering like pools of moonlit water.

Kristy couldn’t meet them.

“Does it feel any better?” her voice broke and she swallowed the knot in her throat. It hurt like the tears burning and searing her eyes. She blinked them back furiously, and she looked, flinching…at her hands, the floor. The guilt ate at her, burning and real.

Again, Legolas didn’t answer. He just clenched his fingers, crossing his arms protectively over his chest.

“Legolas…I,” Kristy couldn’t breathe, and she rasped. “I’m sorry.”

He knew what she tried to tell him. Kristy wished he would say something…anything, to her. But Legolas wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t even look at her. In the morning, what happened would be on the news; the government would have an explanation. She would have answers…but that didn’t matter now.

And suddenly, something shattered and Kristy hissed through her teeth. “I’m _sorry_ Legolas!” Tears broke her eyes and she whispered fiercely. “ _This_ …” she looked around, “this is all my fault. I _know_ it’s all my fault. Okay? I know.”

Legolas swallowed, but he still didn’t answer.

“I…I was just so s-scared.” Kristy tilted her head, trying to keep herself together. _Stay together._ But her chin trembled and she couldn’t. “I-I didn’t know what else to _do_. I didn’t know.”

Kristy lifted her head, sniffing pathetically. She wanted him to look at her…say something, be angry, anything _._ But he didn’t. The quakes, the police, the fear and blackness…it was terrifying. She felt alone and destitute. When he was shouting, when he was angry, it was better than this.

Now he was just silent.

“I _wanted_ to do what was best f-for both of us.” She said in a cracked whisper. Her breathing was becoming sobs. She tried to stop it. She’d tried and succeeded for hours; but now she couldn’t. She was slowly and surely breaking down. “No… that’s not right. I know it’s not. I did what was best for _me._ I was selfish and…and I didn’t care. And I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, hiccupping violently. She stared at her hands.

“I’m sorry, Legolas.”

He was wet and knifed; stitched together with a first-aid kit. _Who knew what happened to him out there?_ Those men? Four against one…it wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

“I don’t k-know what I was doing. I wasn’t thinking _._ And now…and now you’re _bleeding._ And it’s my fault!” Kristy looked up desperately. “I wish I could take it back, Legolas. I didn’t want this. I swear I didn’t! I’m just-” her voice cracked out, and she covered her mouth. She shuddered and looked through blurry eyes at the blood. Legolas’ blood. “I’m just…so s- _sorry.”_

And Kristy leaned on her knees and cried. She did it because she had nothing left to do.

Slowly...reluctantly, Legolas looked over for the first time. She didn’t know it.

Her breathing came in ragged bursts, and Kristy covered her mouth. She couldn’t stop now. Her voice shattered and she spilled out, “Oh…oh god…the people. They were so scared. I’ve never seen people… _look_ like that. Everyone was shouting and crying and-and-…I couldn’t think. I couldn’t find you! I couldn’t breathe. I-”

Legolas just looked at her now, unsure of how to respond.

Kristy’s face was screwed up in misery. The tears were spilling down her face and she couldn’t stand to look up anymore. She couldn’t see that silent, cold expression in his eyes anymore. There was nothing left to do and she broke. She was so tired…so exhausted. _He hated her_. He thought she came after him for _guilt,_ to make herself feel better.

It wasn’t true! She wanted _him._ She wanted him to trust her; she wanted him to tell her how he could be so lost. Even if she didn’t understand, it didn’t matter. Kristy cried because he was gone...gone even before she had him.  

Legolas stared at her, feeling the warm air of the fire on his face. She was curled over, shaking and sobbing. She was so upset. And here he was…motionless. He did nothing. And again, he was the cause of her misery. This was exactly what angered him so! She didn’t even know if she wanted to help him or not. And here he was so in need of it! It was infuriating.

But he wasn’t furious now. He was tired, exhausted to the point of numbness. Yes, he didn’t want to be dependent. He wanted to get home…wherever it was. He wanted that feeling of familiarity. But…he was here now, and it was time he accepted it.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered, breathing slower now. She hiccupped and held herself in her arms. She wanted to run into her room and collapse there, but she didn’t deserve that. He deserved to see the fear, the terror and regret she felt. Maybe then he would know how utterly, utterly sorry she was… She just wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.

“I’m sorry…”

Legolas stared at her a long moment, in the dark. The stream of constant lights weren’t here. He couldn’t even hear them. They were safe inside, warm. The wind rattled on the windowpanes... He was silent then because he wanted to hurt her, just like she’d hurt him. He wanted her to know what it felt like.

And he’d done that.

Legolas watched her sob with a sinking feeling of regret. Seeing her cry didn’t make him happy, or satisfied…or anything else. It made him feel empty and hollow. Legolas hesitated, feeling sorry for what had happened to her, for what happened to him…for everything.

He carefully lifted a hand and touched her.

“Kristine.” Legolas said softly. His fingers traced her face, caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. He did it slowly, carefully… There was no use feeling anger for the only other soul he had. He felt the waves of misery rippling off of her, and it made him more saddened than ever. “Come here.” He whispered, and he pulled her closer.

“I’m sorry.”

Legolas pressed his face into her damp hair. He was here to stay…for now. He knew that. And she wept harder.

So, Legolas found, unfortunately, Kristine wasn’t one of those lucky enough to be beautiful when she cried. And as he carefully held her neck and turned his face into the cool locks of her hair, Legolas nearly smiled. He stroked it gently. She felt in his hands like a drowned mouse.

“You look terrible, Kristine.” He murmured softly, “…utterly terrible.”

As if she understood, she cried harder and he was glad. She needed to weep. If he was less man and warrior, he might have himself. Legolas stared into the fire instead, letting her sink against his chest. He held her close; he crushed her warmth against himself so he could absorb it. He soaked it in… She was warm. She was Kristine.

Legolas swallowed, before slowly dropping his eyes to the floor. Her breathing shuddered and leveled out; she hugged him like a lifeline. It was what he felt from her that made the last of his anger, frustration melt away. Kristy wouldn’t let go. She had him and she wasn’t going to lose him again... It was the one thing he was sure of. It was how it should be.

He held her close.

“I forgive you… Kristine.” Legolas whispered.

 

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**A/N: Well, this chapter was a little heavy…again. But things are going to be fluffier for awhile now. When Aragorn and Tauriel come into the picture…well, who can tell? But I thought for Legolas to come to terms with thing, learn English and make coherent plans to fix all this, it has to come after some weight, right?**

**I truly hope you’re enjoying so far, readers. If you are, please let me know! As well as any ways you think I could improve, too. I enjoy honest criticism. :))**

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello readers! So…these two parts were originally going to be posted separately, but it seemed a little clipped. Let me know if you think it's a little long this way? Anyway, I'm still updating Saturday mornings regular! Hopefully, we can keep it up. :)) Thank you ever so much, all who took the time to review. I appreciate it.  
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Kristy woke up to the feeling of warm skin on her face.

She didn’t move a long while… breathing it in, quiet. It felt good pressed against her cheek. A steady heart beat against her ear and she listened to it. Morning light strained through the drapes and the air was cool outside the blanket.

Legolas leaned back in the crook of the couch, breathing gently.

_Tick…tock…tick…_

He listened to the clock’s noise like it was a hundred times louder than it was. Since he woke up, hums and roars zoomed overhead in the sky beyond. He watched them through the drapes; they had wings, like steel birds. Sirens wailed in the distance…but they were muffled and didn’t disturb his ears even as much as the annoying clock.

“I know you are awake.” He mumbled.

Kristy cracked her eyes open. The vibration of his voice rippled against her ear; his arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, the other on the armrest.

_Earthquakes…_

And it slowly, gradually came back: the homeless shelter, finding Legolas and the police, searching, shouting and…and twenty-five flights of steps. Kristy’s mind was groggy and unfocused, but her body didn’t forget. She groaned inwardly: steps, miles and miles of steep, blue-carpeted steps.

Kristy took a deep breath and sighed then, perplexed. _What happened next?_ Legolas took it the wrong way.

“I know because you ceased to snore.” He explained, knowing she wouldn’t understand him... And Legolas glanced down.

Kristy was curled comfortably in the crook of his arm. She had her knees pulled tight to her chest and faced the wall, sleeping soundly… until then. Her head rose and fell with every gentle breath he took. Kristy shuffled down deeper and scrunched her eyes shut anyway, as if fighting desperately to go back to sleep where it was warm and uncomplicated.

“What time is it?” she mumbled.

“You know I don’t understand you.” He sighed, staring at the ceiling. The hours of sleep meant he could breathe again; his eyes were awake and alert. He felt strength in his limbs.

Last night, Kristy had cried herself to sleep. Nothing but slumber seemed to console her. She insisted on staying in his arms… And still, he didn’t mind. It was cold in the apartment, frigid. And for some reason, it felt strange to be cold. Uncomfortable. Wrong. She was like his own heater.

“So…” he smiled lazily, “this ‘change of heart’ means you intend to feed me, I take it?” His stomach felt hollow and no real strength was in him... Hunger. That vow to accept no help from her seemed rash in the morning light.

But Kristy’s eyes were trying to adjust now, see the clock. She stared and… suddenly, she sat bolt-upright. “Oh…oh my gosh. Ten o’ _clock_? I’m late for work!”

Kristy didn’t even have time to apologize for falling asleep on him, or for not remembering anything after that. She scrambled off the couch and pulled the blanket off him, tripped and slammed to the floor, before bolting. Corby would kill her. No…he wouldn’t kill her, he’d fire her. He’d fire her until he realized no one else would put up with him. Then he’d make her listen to an hour of tirade and re-hire her.

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t be late again!

Legolas jolted at the rush of cold air on his chest and he shivered. But he watched her disappear from the corner of his eyes, sighing, before dragging his long legs off the coffee table. “Oh what are you shouting about, now?”

“I’m late!” Kristy ran past the doorway and back, tripping and clothes flying. She flew into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

Legolas stared, blank, before shaking his head… Just watching that display was exhausting.

He heaved a sigh and got up anyway, running his fingers through his hair. The wound in his side hurt when he stretched, but he ignored it. Instead, he rolled the unbuttoned cuffs down over his hands to cover his aching palms enough. He didn’t need Kristine feeling more guilty than she already did.

“Do you intend to feed me first?” he called after her. With the way that woman was scrambling, she’d probably forget all about him and leave him hungry.

No answer.

“Or do you intend to run off and leave me to forage for myself?” he called louder. After all, whining like a child wasn’t the same when no one understood you.

Then…in a daze, Kristy appeared. She shuffled into the living room wearing one boot, one glove and a coat in her arms.

“I…I forgot. It’s Sunday. There’s no work today.”

Legolas tilted his head. Well, this was good. If he interpreted it correctly, Kristine had nowhere to go now. “… So,” he asked carefully, “this means you will feed me?”

“What?” Kristy sighed. “Oh…oh never mind. Let’s just have some breakfast.” She threw her coat down and started wearily into the kitchen, gathering up glasses, dishes and plates.

And there was a knock at the door.

“Can you get that, Legolas? It’s probably Reiner for a last check on you before he leaves. He’s going to go take care of his uncle; I hoped he would! That patch job last night was definitely not good enough.”

Legolas unbolted the door at her gesture and opened it. He’d recognized the name ‘Riener’ with a distasteful taint in his mouth; he still remembered how the doctor drugged him. But he could use a healer. His side was throbbing and he couldn’t fix it himself.

But… when he swung the door open, expecting to shrivel the man with a cold glare, Legolas froze. The thing standing there was definitely not the old doctor. And a mere stare would not make her shrink.

Frizzy, red hair hovered around this…woman’s face and dotted her cheeks in freckles. A rumpled dress belted around her fat waist, and she looked straight at him through pop-bottle glasses. The very air seemed to grow still, tense…vibrating with fury. Slowly…mouth open, she slid up his shoeless feet, the pants hanging low around his slender hips, and the shirt hanging open over his pale chest.

The game was up.

“… _Anderson!_ ”

Legolas jumped. The woman screamed the vicious whisper and Legolas backed up in haste as Pumpet stalked through the doorway. He spun around, watching her stomp past in bewilderment. She was a storm of heels, fat, and fury. _Who in Eru’s name summoned such a beast?_

“Anderson, get out here! Get out here _now_.”

Kristy appeared from the kitchen, eyes wide. “What? Oh…I mean, Mrs. Pumpet, what-what are you doing here?”

“What is _he_ doing here?” She pointed a meaty finger at Legolas.

Kristy should have said something, anything really, but she didn’t. She just looked between them, mouth moving like she wanted to talk and couldn’t. The pitiable sight reminded Legolas of a dying fish; little squeaks and sounds that should have been words came out. A terribly awkward minute passed and she desperately tried to think of something that made sense.

“Well? I’m waiting, Anderson.”

And it suddenly struck him that the situation looked… uncomfortable, this early in the morning. Kristy looked more than that. She was blushing furiously and shaking. She made a good attempt at hiding it, but it was obvious to Legolas…and to Pumpet.

“Um, h-he’s my cousin…?” Kristy shuddered out a breathless smile. “He’s just here for a visit. What’s the problem?”

Legolas hurriedly buttoned his shirt and tied his hair back in a braid. When Pumpet wasn’t looking, he tugged his pants up too. The waist of the old doctor’s pants was too big. She turned around, glaring at Legolas.

“Really? You expect me to believe… _that’s_ your cousin?”

Kristy laughed like a squeak. “What do you mean? Of course; why not?”

… And then, Pumpet edged closer, staring up at him suspiciously. Legolas leaned away. The woman vaguely resembled a hunter stalking its prey. “If he’s your _cousin,_ what’s his name then?”

“Um…Legolas.”

“That’s not a name.”

Kristy threw her hands up. “Well…he’s Yiddish. My mother came from the old country, and her sister stayed there until she had him. Legolas is here for a visit and I’m, well, putting him up for a little bit.”

“Little bit, huh? Well, I hope that doesn’t mean a second resident in the apartment, Anderson. Because if it is, you-”

“It’s not!” Kristy said hurriedly. “It’s not. Don’t worry.”

“Good.” Pumpet sniffed, shifting back a little. She lifted her pointed nose and looked about. “Well…I just came down to tell you the electricity’s back. That… _whatever_ it was last night, knocked down every power plant in the area. So don’t you bring up that clause in the lease, about power being available and-”

“I wasn’t planning to!” Kristy broke in. “Don’t worry, and thanks. Thanks very much for telling me.”

“Well…” Pumpet muttered, looking between them. Legolas passed a look over her head that said…‘Why is this thing here?’…but Kristine just shook her head.

“Alright.” the landlady finally muttered, “…I have more important things to do then hang around here.”

“Don’t let us keep you.” Kristy agreed quickly. She let herself be hurried out, looking back the whole way.

“Why? What are you trying to get rid of me for? _Mischief_? ‘Cause believe me when I say it, Anderson, the lease says-”

“I _know_ what the lease says!” Kristy said through the threshold, “I’m not breaking it.” and she shut the door.

“Tell me that is not blood kin of yours.” Legolas said the instant she was gone, staring in disbelief. Kristy just turned wearily, before dropping her head on the door.

“Meet my landlady.” she smiled, “I don’t think she likes you.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow, before gesturing to the kitchen. Kristy took his meaning.

“Okay.” She said half-heartedly. “Food, it is.”

She made him pancakes and a meat amulet for breakfast. It took only one plateful for all thoughts of Pumpet to fade, Kristy found as she watched Legolas.

He ate whole-heartedly after having nothing for an entire twelve hours. Kristy nearly smiled. He was sleeping during most of those hours. Still, it was good to see him strong again, and enthusiastic about anything, really. He regarded most everyday things around him with skepticism…and more than a little suspicion. At least he trusted her cooking.

“Here’s juice as you ordered, sire.” Kristy set it down. She didn’t bother trying to give him milk. “And more eggs.”

Legolas refused to even taste the white liquid, and she had a feeling he considered it ‘baby food,’ judging by the distasteful sniff he gave it. Either that, or he grew up with warm milk and hated it ever since...like cheap, cafeteria peanut butter. He liked fruit juice well enough though, and water more than that.

“Um…So, I was thinking you could write down some of your language for me?” Kristy sat down opposite, pen and paper in hand. The dishes were in the sink, dirty but soaking. And Legolas chewed on, looking at her. “I could google it, and then…I could try to find out what language you’re speaking.”

Legolas raised an eyebrow, fork in hand.

“You know, _write_.” Kristy shoved the paper towards him. “Write something, anything.”

Legolas took the pen, wiped his mouth deliberately with a napkin, and proceeded to write, _Why do you shove things at me and expect me to understand you? Just because you repeat your words over and over to me, does not mean you make any more sense than before._

Kristy looked at the paper he pushed back at her. Legolas smiled in satisfaction. “What you expect to do with it, I don’t know. But I tell you this: I doubt you read Sindarin, Kristine.”

One look and she scrunched her nose in disappointment. “I don’t think that’s going to help any, Legolas. I don’t even recognize the letters.” Nonetheless, Kristy brought up google and thought a long minute. “Legolas…Legolas.” Suddenly, she brightened up and her fingers flew. “I’ll look up your name and see what language its origin comes from!”

A long moment later, Legolas watching in silent expectation, her face fell.

“It…it doesn’t come up with anything. Just a lot of references to some mythical character in a ‘Lord of the Rings’.” she paused, looking up. “Sound familiar? Lord of the Rings? No…I didn’t think so.”

Legolas saw the confusion passing over her face, so he pushed his food aside and slid into the next chair where he could look over her shoulder. “What are you doing? Why do you want my words?”

She didn’t answer, but flipped from page to page…pictures, images, text and different artists’ depictions of some ‘elf’ named Legolas of Mirkwood. “This doesn’t make sense. Maybe I’m spelling it wrong, huh?”

Legolas just stared at the passing images…one to the next: trees, people, faces and battles. And then suddenly, he grabbed the chair and burst out. “The White City!”

Kristy jumped at his voice in her ear, before saying quickly. “What? What did you say?”

Legolas eagerly grabbed the phone from her fingers. “Minas Tirith.” he pointed at the picture, hoping desperately she’d understand. He remembered that city! Out of the sea of jumbled memories floating back into his head, it stuck out in his mind. “I _know_ this city.” he insisted.

“Okay…something’s familiar. The picture? You know who painted it?”

But it was hopeless. She didn’t know what he was doing. Legolas was swiping his inexperienced fingers frantically through the photos, looking for more things familiar to him. And one glued his attention to the screen completely. Out of the blue… Legolas froze.

This was….this was too good to be true.

“What is it?” Kristy shook his arm. He didn’t pay any attention.

Legolas just stared at the words…the clumsy words in his own tongue that were spelled only a little wrong…to the text on the other side. He recognized almost all the letters. They were Westron, the language of men and the people of Laketown. It was some kind of Sindarin…to something, key. Maybe the language Kristine spoke.

Still, as he read, the phrases were ridiculous and insulting mostly. Either that or impractical. ‘You are hideous. Hold this for me. Don’t talk to strangers.’ He had to find something he could read…see if it made sense to her. And then he found a short, simple phrase he thought he could pronounce.

“S-leep,” he murmured carefully. The letters were arranged a little oddly, but he managed to whisper, “…now…and sweet dre-ams.”

Kristy gasped, staring at him. “What?”

Legolas looked up, hoping he didn’t mispronounce the words and offend her. “S-sleep now…and sweet dreams?”

Kristy almost giggled, but she just choked on her own bubble. “Yes! I…I mean, _yes._ I understand you. I understand you!”

Legolas laughed, triumphant at last. He wasn’t sure which words meant which in his own tongue, but it didn’t matter. “I need more. _More_ words, this tongue…I must learn it!”

Kristy grabbed the table, unable to believe it. _He could talk to her…_ She covered her eyes and jiggled up and down, trying desperately to think. She _wasn’t_ mad! He _could_ talk to her. And he _could_ speak elvish…whatever that was. Legolas was still laughing, a sound so clear and beautiful it made her want to sing.

But for both their ears, she didn’t.

“B-but…I mean, wait. Legolas!” She dove and grabbed both of his shoulders. He just grinned at her, flashing dimples that she’d never seen before. “This is not _right_. It can’t be! It says this is Sindarin _elvish._ You know elvish _? That’s_ the language you know? What are you, some kind of nut?”

Legolas couldn’t be bothered with what she was trying to say. He just grabbed her hands off of him, squeezed them, and pushed her away.

“Not now.”

Legolas ran through the words and images, repeated them over and over to himself. The words in his language made sense… He could learn this. He knew three languages, each in two different dialects. Somehow, he still knew them…even after all of what happened to him. _What’s one more?_

And finally, Kristy began to help him. _What was the use in sanity?_ Crazy was crazy, but it seemed to work.

She brought out her laptop.

“Here, use this. The screen’s bigger.”

She copied off dozens and dozens of phrases and common words in this ‘Sindarin’ language. So, the rest of the morning, Legolas sat at the table muttering to himself… And Kristy browsed the news, looking for what happened last night. Legolas would show her a difficult word and she’d pronounce it for him, but for the most part, he could piece out the syllables remarkably well. She could hear what he was saying…and it made her feel she was a little less mad for getting into all of this.

“Oh…oh wow.” She whispered a few hours later. It was around noon, and Legolas was skimming through a Sindarin/English dictionary. In his eagerness, he didn’t even have time to wonder at the ‘PC’.

Now, Kristy sat straight in her chair. Papers and pens scattered the table. Legolas was copying words down to help himself remember. Now he looked at her from overtop a stack of them.

“…L-legolas?”

He looked more intensely. “What is it?”

“I…” Kristy was beginning to breathe a little faster. “…I don’t think that was exactly a storm, last night.”

Legolas couldn’t understand. So Kristy grabbed the laptop from him and did the word search for what she needed. They didn’t make much sense, and Legolas grimaced when she butchered his7 language to pieces, so she just pointed to the word and Legolas read it.

Kristy gave the important parts of what a certain news article read.

“It says they’ve been trying to keep it under wraps, to begin with.” She started. “They didn’t know what it was, the g-government, and when these storms started striking down up north, they sealed off the area and kept the media out. Now, obviously, they can’t do that. But…but what this one scientist says…”

Kristy leaned forward.

“Oh, this is crazy…Legends of ‘storms of the gods’ and ‘strangers’ have been recorded through _history._ It says every few hundred years, these strangers of the gods—the ancient Aztecs called them—could come from any time, any place and tell them the future, of different times and things that they’ve never heard of.”

Then, Kristy sat even stiffer in her chair, if it was possible. “Legolas…Legolas they’re looking for you!” she blurted. “The police and-and the army, who they were looking for all this time, it’s you! I-I mean…people _like_ you.”

Then, she hurried to explain…more to herself than him. Legolas only caught the words she hurriedly searched for in the dictionary.

“Haley’s comet has a flight path of passing Earth every 76 years. Its orbit is a long oval, and one of these brings it dangerously close to the sun. Every time these storms have been recorded, they coincide with a passing of the comet. _But…_ ” she said, concentrating. “…even though the comet passes every 76 years, the storms are recorded randomly.

“239 B.C., according to the European space agency, was the first time the comet was recorded by Chinese astronomers mapping its passage in the Shih Chi and Wen Hsien Chronicles. It was also the first recorded storm. Their theory now is that once every who-knows-how-many-times the comet swings around the sun, a solar flare appears at the same time, and the comet passes through.

“They’re not sure, but it seems the power--enough to fuel the entire world’s energy consumption for a year--” Kristy paused, thinking about that. “Wow…that’s a lot. Anyway, combined with the intense speed of the comet, it’s enough to ripple, or even tear bits of space. Isaac Newton’s ‘Bent Space Theory’ that says it’s really like a woven sheet that can be bent and broken seems to be true.”

“The massive charge eventually dissipates into Earth’s atmosphere. But until then, it can focus and concentrate in any given place. That’s what the storms are, lightning fast bolts of solar energy.” Kristy half-laughed, a little sick, “You’re lucky you weren’t dropped into the Arctic ocean then, Legolas.”

He just stared at her.

“The FBI are said to be involved, and looking for anyone and anything that has been caught in these ‘rips’. They already have some, and they say the general populace can identify them by these people being ‘dangerous, disoriented, without reason and generally violent’. These storms are spreading though, and they’ve already closed off the borders, in and out, until the ‘crisis’ is under control.”

Kristy couldn’t even begin to explain any of that to Legolas…Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn’t herself.

“Legolas…they can’t find you.” Kristy said, breathing fast. “It doesn’t matter if any of this mumbo-jumbo is true. They _can’t_ find you.”

Somewhere in the murky place that was common sense, she had the most insistent feeling that whatever they were doing to the people they found…it wasn’t good. Legolas wouldn’t be a guinea pig, not if she could help it.

“You’re not dangerous, and you’re not violent either.” She said, slowly closing the screen and staring at the wall. Legolas was mulling over what he could make out from Kristine…and it wasn’t very much.

And the more she thought about it, the longer it sunk in, the more she was sure. “The FBI and they’re greedy scientists, plastic gloves and test machines aren’t going to get at you.” Kristy looked over at him, staring into the cool blue depths of his eyes. They stared at her, or something near her, very quiet and very solemn.

Gone was Legolas’ joy at learning English, and the thought of finally communicating properly… He was in trouble, serious trouble. It wasn’t anything new, but now it was cemented in his stomach until he felt a small measure sick. The soldiers guarding Kristine’s city were looking for him.

“We’re going to get you home Legolas,” She whispered, “…wherever that is. I promise.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Legolas sat as still as possible in the passenger seat. Kristine was driving… He wanted to fidget inside the steel beast, feeling the cold city wind blow his hair, but he wouldn’t be parted from her laptop. It was his livelihood. It was how he could communicate with this world.

Outside, the city was relatively undamaged from the ravages of the storms. It was better here; others weren’t so lucky. Pictures spattered the news of buildings crunched and shaken to the ground…children in dusty rubble and flooding streets. Fewer people walked the streets. The weight of fear hung in the air still, stank; bright sun shone from the white clouds.

“So, we’ll get you stitched up properly…” she was saying as they pulled to a stop, the windows rolled down in the frigid air. Hot air purred from the heater and warmed his skin. He felt disengaged from it all though, looking out at the piles of broken rubble and glass buildings. They couldn’t touch him here…not yet. “…and then we get you some clothes and stuff. You know, whatever you need. Toothbrush, more clothes…things like that. I don’t know how long you’re going to be staying.”

Legolas didn’t look. “I would appreciate it if you’d refrain from talking unless you care to show me what it is you want, Kristine.”

The mornings’ events made him feel snappish. Knowing for certain that Kristine’s leaders were searching for people like him…to what end? He didn’t know. He wasn’t willing to find out.

The red light was a long one, so Kristy sighed, flipping open the lid of her PC. Legolas steadied it for her, and she did a word search for ‘healer,’ ‘trade’ and then ‘clothes’.

“You intend to buy me…things.” Legolas said. She thankfully didn’t mangle his native tongue again. “I see.”

“But we still need to find out where you come from. All we know now is you speak some weird Sindarin language, and don’t know English. So…” she said as the light turned, sorting it out in her own mind. “…as soon as we get your stuff and get you stitched up, we can find out what language you grew up with. Then we’ll know where you’re from. Right?”

Up ahead, a squad of army trucks rumbled past in green and brown.

Marshal law had been declared. Factories were up and arms over it, as the entire third shift of any business would have to stop, but a curfew was set from five o’clock in the morning, to eleven o’clock at night. She assumed it was to help with rioting…either that or finding the confused souls ‘injured by the storms’, so said the police bulletins.

It was insane, but she believed the scientists instead.

If Legolas really was from a different place or…or time, it would make better sense than he’d suddenly been hit by lightning and spoke a different language. She refused to believe he was lying, either. There was intensity in his eyes, honesty. They burned truth with every word he spoke.

“Try not to say anything, in the hospital if you can.” Kristy said as she parked as close as possible to the entrance. The lot was full to bursting though, and so were the street sides for blocks down the street. No one paid attention to the ‘no parking’ signs.

“ _What_?” Legolas slammed the door shut and stepped onto the sidewalk.

Kristy sighed, hitting her head in frustration. “I’m sorry. Just…” she thought about it, before shutting her mouth tight, pointing at it, and then motioning to Legolas. “You stay quiet. Okay?”

Legolas frowned. “…very well.”

She shrugged, “I’m sorry. I just don’t want any awkward questions coming up. They probably have the whole building watched like a hawk.”

They started down the sidewalk and breathed gusts of cold vapor in the frigid air. Legolas walked beside, and she threw a sidelong glance.

“Besides, you already stick out, you know…flowing hair and everything? You look like a supermodel.”

Legolas wasn’t sure what she said, but he glared anyway. Something in her teasing smile made him suspicious…

The hospital was a massive building of glass and steel. Ambulances were a steady stream, in and out of the parking lot. People were everywhere, some bandaged and coming out, others limping inside.

Past the doors though…Kristy almost gasped in surprise. The emergency waiting room was filled to bursting. There weren’t any empty seats. People were everywhere…pushing, peering, straining at the desk. Nurses were hurrying everywhere, shouting out names over the din. Two uniformed police were at both halls leading into the rest of the hospital, barring the way. Children were curled up on the floor, heads in their mothers’ laps and sleeping. Bumps and scratches were being treated in the hallway by random, exhausted looking doctors and nurses.

Legolas took one look…and he turned around.

“No, Kristine.” He shoved the glass door open and was already half-way out before she could protest.

“Legolas, wait!” Kristy grabbed his coat to try and stop him, but it dragged her out the door too. It slammed shut behind them, and she shivered at the cold blast of air that hit her. “Wait…wait! What are you doing? You need stitches!”

“Kristine _,_ don’t even _think_ of it.” Legolas spun around to face her, narrowing his eyes. “I need nothing from them, and most of them do. I will stitch it _myself_ , if need be. Do not think it will be the first time.”

“Please, Legolas…” she pleaded. “Help me out here. W-we _have_ to stay. Just cooperate. Please?”

Legolas stared at her, torn. If he were honest with himself, he knew it was the sight of the guards near the exits that upset him. He remembered them… knew they would hunt him if they only knew. They could tell right away what he was, if they had eyes to see. He was different. He didn’t belong here, and everyone knew it…even Kristine.

On the streets, he remembered their shouts, demanding things he didn’t have. They had road-blocks and steel that exploded, wailing sirens. In there with two of them was the _last_ place he wanted to be.

“Please, Legolas?” she whispered softly, wanting to reach up and touch him. But she didn’t dare. And suddenly the memory of him fighting off those four men with knives was very real. He looked so angry…upset. Kristy wouldn’t admit it, but that look in his eyes scared her. He was afraid and dangerous.

“You _know_ I won’t tell them anything.” She insisted, trying to make him see. Legolas just stared at her, snared in indecision. “Let’s just get in, get out, and have it over with. Please?”

And finally, Legolas gave in. He scrunched his brows together and rubbed his forehead, drawing a breath of cold air through his teeth, and he relented, “All right.”

When they went back in, it didn’t seem quite so loud or as hectic as before. They pushed and wove their way through to the desk, Legolas’ arms clearing the way for the smaller woman. The nurse in the desk was harried and tired, scribbling away and trying to ignore the protesting shouts. The line was too slow.

“My friend needs stitches...o-or something. He was knifed last night, and he needs a doctor.” Kristy said to the woman, leaning over the counter. “Is there someone I can go to?”

“Fill out the form and it’s a hundred dollars cash payment.” She said. “The hospital will send you a bill later. If you don’t have the money, take this form and-”

“I have it.” Kristy interrupted. “I have it, don’t worry. But…send it to me?”

It was too late. The nurse had no more time…She was already up and helping an ambulance team roll a cart through the emergency doors. It looked like a roof had fallen in on the patient they brought in. He was just one of many. Kristy reluctantly took the paper pushed at her.

“Where should I have them send it?” she whispered fiercely quiet. “I don’t want them having your name…or mine, for that matter. What if someone recognizes you?” Kristy shook her head, before putting down the address of a P.O. box. It belonged to a friend, but she was sure she’d let her use it. “Alright, I’m Leah. Remember not to call me Kristine, anymore. You’re…”

Legolas glanced from her to the name she wrote down, and he guessed. “Legolas?”

“No…another one.” Kristy shuffled to the edge of the room and stood against the wall. It still wasn’t very private, but it was the quietest place in the room. She shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the open eyes and ears. “How ‘bout Bob?” she whispered.

Legolas wrinkled his nose.

“Um…Pete? Rudolph?”

“Are these names you speak of or food?” Legolas shot back. The people were too busy to listen, but they still made him nervous.

“Okay, okay.” She took his disapproving frown as a sign. “How about…how about Luke?”

“Luke...” Legolas chewed on the word. _Oh, what did it matter?_ His side was beginning to ache badly where she’d bandaged it, and despite his earlier protests, he didn’t want to sew it himself. So, he nodded in agreement. At least it was a name he had heard before; a merchant in Laketown went by the name of Luke. It was amazing what random things were coming back to him. More and more, every day they flooded in.

It was refreshing, like a gust of warmth in the snow.

“Luke.” He repeated.

“Alright…” She wrote it down, paper flat on the wall. “If I wanted to be a Star Wars princess, I’d say Luke Skywalker. But you can be…I don’t know, Luke Smith. Unoriginal, but fair.”

“Luke Smith.” Legolas thought about it, folding his arms and staring through the moving people, before half-smirking. “Unappealing, Kristine.”

She just smiled slightly, filling out the rest. Legolas was suddenly grinning to himself in the queerest way... It made her want to look at it. He was so serious before, frightening. But sometimes, like now, he just looked so boyish. It was like he took unreasonable delight in lying. Maybe because he knew there were such powerful people after souls like him…and the worst he’d done is lie about his name.

Three hours later, Legolas was cross-legged on the floor, back against the wall and studying English. Legs passed back and forth in a blur, filled his peripheral vision in a constant, chaotic hum of noise. The room never seemed to empty, only shift and change… But he could block it out now.

For an hour or so, Kristine helped him study the words. Then she was curled up in the corner with her legs against her chest, fast asleep.

It didn’t matter. Legolas could read the strange letters now. It was more difficult than Westron, yes, but the letters were almost the same. He could pronounce them, even if he didn’t know what they meant.

“Luke Smith!” A nurse called, trying to see over the heads bobbing back and forth. “Luke Smith, _next_!”

Legolas snapped his head up on the second time, before reaching over and touching Kristine. Her head was on her knees.

“Kristine…wake up.” He hissed. She barely even stirred, so he took her arm and shook her. “It is time!”

And Kristy jolted up with a suffocated yelp.

“In here?” The nurse gestured, leading them down the hall and into a semi-secluded hospital room. Kristy stumbled more than once, but she scrubbed her eyes and blinked vigorously to wake up. The light made her blink like an owl; a glass window looked out over the hospital grounds. The walls were creamy white, sterile.

“Alright Luke…Smith, where does it hurt?” the nurse forced a smile. There was only concern in her eyes though. Like so many others here, she didn’t look like she slept all night.

“Um…he was cut with jack-knives, last night.” Kristy supplied. “Luke doesn’t speak English.”

The nurse glanced over. “Oh? All right…Let me see, then.”

She took care of his hands first. Only Legolas’ left palm, where he’d grabbed the blade in his hand needed six stitches. She seemed more worried with the bloody gash raked across his ribs than that though.

“I’ll bet this hurt.” She said with practiced detachment. The nurse touched it gently, and Legolas grit his teeth, refusing to flinch. It was long and ugly.

So Legolas stripped to the waist and let the nurse do her work. His side hurt too much to worry about feeling prudish. Kristy just flushed a darker color and turned around, staring out the windows.

“This will just be a few minutes…”

Legolas shivered in the cool air, feeling the needle acutely every time it slipped through his skin. She’d injected him with something…pain killer, probably, but it only dulled the sting.

It didn’t matter. He’d endured worse.

“I’m just going to run a test or two on this blood, now.” The nurse spoke up, glancing to Kristy and where Legolas sat at the end of the bed on plastic. It looked more like a recovery room though; the nurse had to bring in her equipment from somewhere else. “There could have been rust or any number of contaminants on that knife, right? I’ll just be a minute.”

“Okay.” Kristy nodded quickly.

When the nurse slipped out and was gone and the door wheezed shut, the voices from outside were muffled again. Kristy glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder.

“Does it…feel alright?”

Legolas looked up, and at the worry in her eyes, he nodded once.

Kristy stared at the floor. “Sorry about dragging you in here.” She mumbled, studying the tops of her boots. “…but I don’t want you to die of blood poisoning or something.” Kristy smiled a little sickly. “I…I don’t think I could take that.”

Legolas didn’t answer.

“I already told you I was sorry…right?” she spoke up after a few minutes. Kristy peered at him cautiously, as if not looking directly at him made him feel more decent.

Legolas just sighed.

“I am you know…very sorry.” She stared at him. Legolas may only know a few words, but he had to know that one by now. She’d said it so many times, in her own head and aloud, it was becoming habit. She just kept seeing the blood soaked rags and…four men in that alley, police, fists and more blood. He was so alone and yet it was like he didn’t know it, like he would take care of himself no matter what. Like he had a reason to live and he would fight for it.

“…very sorry, for-for doing that to you.” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to. I… I didn’t think that would happen, that’s all…”

“Come here, Kristine.” Legolas beckoned with his chin. She just hovered uncomfortably, still lingering around the floor. “Come _here_.” he insisted, but she only looked up half way, eyeing his nakedness warily.

Then, Legolas nearly smiled.

The girl was probably remembering his reaction to waking up shirtless in her bed, and didn’t want a repeat. Legolas sighed, feeling a tinge of regret for being so suspicious that morning, but it was hardly his fault. He’d remembered nothing at all, then, and he knew even less about this woman than he did now.

“I…I guess it looks worse than it feels?” Kristy edged over, giving into the sick need to stare at the black, stitched gash running up his ribs.

“If you understood me, I would not say it, Kristine. But the truth is that the pain is…acute.” Legolas said honestly.

Kristy just fidgeted with her hands. Legolas tilted an eyebrow. Whatever it was that made her so queasy looking, it must be guilt.

“You know,” he finally said quietly, “it is not… _entirely_ your fault that this happened, Kristine.” Legolas tilted his head. She risked a look up, swallowing, and she found his eyes laughing.

_Laughing?_ What did he have to laugh about? He was flayed open like a gutted fish, stitched back together with a needle and thread, and he was _laughing_! It was more quiet, pained mirth glittering in his eyes…but it still was out of place. He should be mad, or upset…something.

“What?”

And Legolas grinned tightly. “Your face might be worth some of this, Kristine…if you saw yourself.”

“What are you _talking_ about?” she insisted more adamantly. “And stop smiling! It-it’s _unnatural_. I _know_ it hurts, and I know it’s my fault. Alright? You don’t have to pretend.”

Legolas just sighed, before touching the tips of her fingers. She drew back and looked away before he could.

“I said that I forgive you, Kristine. Is that not enough?”

She just stared at the floor.

“Give me that…thing.” He said suddenly, ignoring the twinge in his side. He refused to let this go on any longer. Legolas saw the outline of her phone in her pocket, and he beckoned insistently. “Give it to me.”

Kristy looked between him and her pocket an instant, feeling a little disoriented, before turning it on and passing it to him, confused. The Sindarin/English dictionary was still up, and even though Legolas still had trouble navigating it…all morning long searching for words helped a little.

Legolas already knew ‘I’, and he knew ‘you’. They were some of the first words he looked for. So…when he found the last one he needed, mulled it around in his head a moment, he set the phone down and looked up at her. The floor must be very interesting if her eyes were any judge to go by.

“Kristine…” he said very clearly, being sure the words sounded right in his own head. Then, he said quietly in English. “…I forgive you.”

She jumped, before looking up. “What….what did you say?”

“I forgive you.” He said simply, as if it was obvious. She looked almost wildly over his face, as if she couldn’t believe the words came out of his mouth.

“Y-you mean…” she blinked, shifting to face him. “Really? You said…you said you really _forgive_ me?”

The jumble of words confused Legolas a moment, but he just nodded. “I forgive you.” _What else could he do?_ And suddenly, she gasped a breath of relief and looked ready to cry. She didn’t though…to Legolas’ relief.

Or not.

She laughed and hugged him instead. Instantly, Legolas hissed in pain at the jolt she hit him with, throwing her arms around his neck in relief. It shot up his spine and he almost doubled over.

“Thank you! Then- I-I mean sorry!” she jumped back almost as fast, cringing at Legolas’ reaction. He clutched his side, before forcing the pain down, nodding. It hadn’t ripped the stitches, only tugged them a little.

“I’m sorry!”

“It…it is all right.” He lifted a hand, palm out. He wasn’t sure if it was consoling or keeping her back. Both of hers were in the air, like offending items that horrified her. “It is alright, Kristine.”

She just nodded slightly, biting her lip so hard he could see it. It must have hurt, too, because the same red tears as last night were in her eyes. Seeing the dried blood, the horrid black stitches under his arm…it was sorrow all over again.

“Never mind, truly.” He insisted, hoping he didn’t ruin the progress he’d made. She sniffed and looked down, looking at her hands with nothing short of fury. It was naught but kitten fury though, and she was close to tears.

Legolas forced himself to smile easier, and so he beckoned. “Come back. It is alright.”

She hesitated a long minute, looking at his expression, before reluctantly shuffling closer. He wanted to cringe…but he didn’t. Legolas did not cringe to anyone, much less to a tiny human female who only wanted to hug him.

More carefully than a sparrow nestling her feathers to a single, tear-drop egg, she slipped onto the plastic beside him. She reached up and sorrowfully touched his neck. Her fingerless gloves were soft and he felt her heart race through her hands. Legolas stared at something on the wall, unable to feel comfortable shifting closer…yet he didn’t want to push her away, either. That would hurt her feelings.

So he sat still. He didn’t move a single, tense muscle and above all, he did not look at her.

But Legolas was worried for nothing.

Kristy cupped his neck in her hands and hugged the side of his face with hers…much more timidly than she had to. He almost smiled. Her breathing was fast and so shallow that it wasn’t enough. She was painfully nervous and she was going to drop away, flushed and graceless.

“You are one part sparrow…do you know that, Kristine?” he smiled slightly and dropped his head. It let her hold his face in her velvety gloves and her fingers touched his cheek. He could have kissed her if he wanted to…but he didn’t. He wanted to let her feel him…He wanted to feel her. He shut his eyes and felt her shallow breaths even out, slow.

And then, he knew why he felt so very lonely, why he felt like he was looking at the world through a wall of glass. He could not feel.

Kristy’s spirit would be warm right now. It would be…her _fea._ So close, she could bask in his essence. He’d let her brush his spirit, and he would not need to let her hug him like this. The feeling was not unpleasant, of course… Kristine was warm and her fingers tingled on his face; her skin smelled faintly of lilac that tingled on the back of his tongue. He slid his face down hers and inhaled deeply, breathing it in. Gods…she smelled good.

But it was worthless and inadequate. It wasn’t what he wanted. There was all of this…missing. It was her spirit that he should be feeling, and whatever happened to him…becoming human maybe, it was no longer possible. It left him feeling empty and even a little angry.

And then, a timid whisper brushed all of that away.

“I’m sorry.”

He dragged himself out of the lowly, self-deprecating thoughts and focused on her as she looked up at him. Kristine was oblivious to his turmoil. She thought his pain was a scratch. She thought it was not remembering, when in reality it was _remembering_ that killed him. He was remembering just how much he had lost, how much he wanted all of it back.

He remembered what it was like to have himself, all that was his, and now have none of it. He was taken from his world and thrown into this one, empty and a shallow, miserable husk of what he was. A part of him knew it wasn’t true, but that didn’t matter…It’s what he felt like.

And then, Kristine pulled back and whispered something that he didn’t understand. She was murmuring things—he had no idea what—and gently touching the stitches on the meat of his palm. And he cursed, dragging himself out of the miserable thoughts.

He may have lost everything…but at least he gained something. She was right in front of him, and playing innocently with his fingertips. He stared at her as she talked, wondered how he was lucky enough to have such a strange little thing amongst all this…nothingness.

“- Kristine.” Legolas interrupted, and she looked up with a start, glancing over his face.

“Uh…what?”

Legolas studied her carefully, the smooth fringe of hair brushed from her forehead in the wind. He looked into her blue-green eyes. Eyes that were easy to laugh and even easier to cry. She had nothing for a chin, but a gentle mouth that twitched and fidgeted like now, when she was nervous. She had a habit of chewing the inside of her lip so it twitched and fidgeted while nothing else did… like a chipmunk.

And he couldn’t help but smile as he murmured. “Thank you.”

“F-for…for what?” she asked, obviously confused.

It was good Legolas couldn’t explain even if he wanted to. He didn’t know the words in English or his own tongue. He merely shrugged, smiling slightly, and it was just a brief moment of happiness.

But the moment was cut short.

The nurse came back in, finished up with his side…and then paused. “Uh…Mr. Smith, there seems to be no complications. However the full test results will be back in a few days. They will be sent to your address, along with the bill, and the doctor’s instructions if anything turns up.”

Kristy nodded. “Kay… Thank you.”

The waiting room was as full as ever, confused, harried…and Legolas took her hand, laced and locked their fingers together. He pulled her through the crowd and out the exit. The cold air hit her like a slap in the face, but all she really felt was the tingling heat of his skin. Kristy felt that warmth and she couldn’t help remembering the desperate fingers clinging to hers in the rain. She remembered his fear and confusion, that first day so long ago. It was impossible to believe it was just two weeks. But he wasn’t that person anymore.

He was strong. He was a fighter. He was a leader.

                        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please have a good day readers! And let me know what you think, if you have the time.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Forgive me for skipping the last update time, readers. But you wouldn’t be so angry if you knew some of the terrible problems real life is throwing my way!**

**Between moving, getting a new job and finishing classes…it’s all just gotta come first. I’ll try to update as regularly as possible in the future, probably every two weeks or so. But please, bear with me. The next few months, especially the next one or two are looking tipsy. So…here are two chapters (or one long one; I may combine them later) to help make up for it.**

**As always, thank you for your reviews Raider-K, melodicechoes (for not reviewing in emojis, especially;), CalistaLegaci, jshaw0624, Trich, REMdream, Andy the willow tree, Scylla’s revenge, Woman of Letters, wickedGreene13, Fangirl.Divided, SparkyTAS, dreamer, Woman of Letters, Amateur Bacon Cook, WyomingCowboy15, middleagemanager…and guests that I couldn’t answer. I love them all. :)**

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The Gift

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“Um…no. Definitely not.”

“Why do you give me clothes _just_ to say no, Kristine?” Legolas snapped, frustrated.

“I’m sorry. You’re just not the baseball cap type!” she laughed. “We’re trying to get you to fit in, not stand out more. The coat’s alright, just-just _not_ the cap.”

Legolas stood wearily in the threshold of the dressing room. He refused to look in the mirror at all; it just hurt too much. He’d never imagined shopping could be like this! To think, all these years, Legolas managed to think females went marketing by walking straight to what they needed, buying one or two of it, and heading sensibly home. Oh, how he was wrong!

Kristy never stopped. She just shopped…and shopped…and shopped until he had more than he knew what to do with.

Legolas stared out at the mall cafeteria, exhausted.

“…um, and I’m really not sure how it works.” Kristy was in the booth next to him, twirling a straw round and round her empty glass.

The woman was trying to explain the concept of an ‘escalator’ to him. Legolas refused to go anywhere near them, so they had to shop on the ground floor.

“But there’s really nothing to be afraid of. Well, unless you catch your hair in the rail like I did.” she half-smiled. “Then they’re pretty scary. But, you know, other than that…”

“Are we not finished yet?” he sighed, casting his eyes sidelong. The woman didn’t seem to think they every had enough. It was ridiculous. He needed a pair of boots, another clean shirt, trousers…a hairbrush maybe. That was all!

“Come on, it’s not so bad.” She patted his arm, sliding out of the seat and looking to his weary eyes. “You have to have these things.”

Legolas curled over and put his face in his hands, took a deep breath, steeling himself. He leaned on the tabletop a moment, dreading more music from the loudspeakers, words he didn’t know, clacking heels… all of _this_ , before carefully, Kristy put her hand on his head. He started at the contact, and she almost drew away, but not quite.

“I…I know you’re tired.” she said softly. “I am too, but we’re almost done. Really.”

Legolas’ side was beginning to ache again and he felt queasy, light-headed. She gave him a moment, and then over the next hour, finished the last of the shopping.

“I’m sorry it took so long.” She said as she opened the door and helped load the bags into the back seat. A brisk, cold wind blew, and it seemed unfair that she bought and he carried. But then again, he couldn’t drive and she could.

Legolas wasn’t fond of walking either… especially at night. The city was dreadful.

“If that is supposed to be comforting Kristine, don’t bother.” He sighed, dropping wearily into the passenger seat. Yellow parking lamps shattered the black, crowded lot and threw light down the white lines. It glowed on his face through the tinted windows. Legolas was too tired to even feel nervous in the steel beast. Driving around in it, swerving and honking through an edgy and still frightened city all day dragged every scrap out of him.

“Well...” She got down next to him, shutting the door. “If you’re getting hungry, I can always microwave something before I leave.”

Legolas blinked. Leaving…and hungry in the same sentence? What did they have to do with each other? “I assume you mean we are _leaving_ to _eat_?” he guessed.

“I have to run down to my sisters’ tonight.” she explained without really explaining. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get some food first.”

So it was eight thirty by the time they were ‘home’. Dark had well fallen and the stars were out, cool and gleaming in the night sky. It was just the same day, but amazingly, there were already words around him that Legolas understood. Bits and pieces of the phrases and letters he’d crammed into memory popped out at him everywhere. Conversation, shouts across the parking lot… “hello, food, bathroom, hungry”.

In the apartment, Legolas collapsed on the couch. The woman was worried for his injuries and insisted that he didn’t walk very much, but it didn’t matter. The new sights, sounds and smells…catching bits and snippets of conversation in an otherwise jumbled world…it was exhausting.

Kristy slid a panel open and dropped the shopping bags in the closet. “Are you all right?” she asked wearily. He was crashed face-down in the leather cushions like a dead body. “…Legolas?”

He groaned.

Kristy just smiled, before she came over and patted his arm, trying to shake him awake. “Legolas…I’ll get you some food and then I have to leave. Okay?”

Legolas dragged his head up. “Leave?” he repeated.

“Yeah. Me…” she pointed to herself. “…I’m leaving. I’ll be gone a couple hours or so, okay?”

He thought about it. Kristy was leaving…again. _Nothing new._ Well at least this time, she left him in her apartment instead of a homeless shelter. No. The feeling wasn’t quite the same.

“Very well…” he muttered, dropping his head again and staring at her from one eye. His entire body felt limp, like every last thread of energy was sapped out of him, leaving a dry, empty husk. “You do not look safe to operate that beast, Kristine.” He muttered. She was tired too; it was obvious and he saw it.

“Yeah well…” she said nondescriptly, not quite sure what he meant by that look, before gesturing. “Come on. I’ll show you where you can throw these pillows when you go to bed.”

Legolas reluctantly got up and watched her unravel the couch; he didn’t bother feeling suspicious. It was just another oddity…At least this was some use to him. Kristy trudged out of her room with sheets and a blanket, helped him make the bed, before heaving it back on itself.

“There. All clean.” She looked up and Legolas smiled. Even that was weak.

It was just a few minutes later that she set a plate of food out for him, poured him a drink…and left. He was all alone. It was so quiet. Not the kind of quiet that he could listen to, or feel at peace in. Legolas looked around. It was a ticking, whirring, humming quiet.

And then, he looked at the clean inside of his arm. He remembered the words he’d written there… _I am an elf_. And then it struck him. He’d translate those words, put them into this strange English tongue… He’d show them to Kristine!

Legolas sat down on the carpet, cross-legged against a warm vent, slowly rubbing his fingers. The longer he thought about it, the more he was sure. They were who he was. The words were a part of his essence, all he had left. These he should share with Kristine. She had a right to know who she harbored in her home... Kristine would be so happy. She’d know how he trusted her.

Legolas smiled. She’d have all the answers he did.

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“Laura?”

No answer.

Kristy glanced around the porch in the dark, shuffling. The moon threw long shadows down the lawn. Silence, eerie silence brushed the dark and tickled wind chimes in the trees…made them swing and ding in the night…a shout, echoes, a car motor starting up. She didn’t like standing out here in her boots. It made her spine tingle and the wind bit at her cheeks like ice.

The door was unlocked.

“Um… _Laura_?” Kristy peered inside, cracking the latch open. All was dark, except the kitchen light…and barking. That was Shenzie. “I came like I said I would. Can-can I have my dog?”

Nothing…nothing but a rustle in the dark.

And suddenly, a sharp squeal and a giggle came out of the kitchen. Kristy jumped in surprise and Laura sprinted out. Her husband, a tall man that grinned at the shout followed after, and Laura cleared her throat, still tittering.

“Oh, oh Kris…” she glanced quickly to the man and back, straightening her shirt. Shenzie was still locked in the other room and barking, but quieter now. “We weren’t expecting you.”

Kristy blinked in the dark. “Oh…B-but my dog, remember?”

“Oh… right, of course.” Laura shook her head and scurried out, still laughing. She switched the lights on and disappeared. “Stupid me!”

Kristy blinked owlishly in the light, peering through the hazy spots. She glanced around. The TV was on mute…Pillows were everywhere, scattering the room and it was a mess. Dan’s shirt was still open.

Kristy glanced down, uncomfortable. She supposed it was to be expected. They were newlyweds, after all.

“So…” he started.

Kristy shoved her hands in her coat pockets awkwardly, swallowing the knot in her throat. It felt like there wasn’t quite enough air in the room... She never knew what to say to her brother-in-law. The carpet was blue. The air in the corner smelled like cleaning detergent and dust. Kristy wasn’t sure why she noticed these things, but they made her feel lonely, out of place.

“So Laurie tells me you’ve been taking care of some…friend?” Dan leaned on the wall as they waited. One of the living room bulbs were burnt out, throwing dark down one-half the room and lighting the other. He fiddled casually with his shirt tails, ignoring his disheveled hair and rumpled pants.

Kristy glanced to the ground. “Um, yes. You could say that.”

“What’s his name?”

“Well, see, it’s kind of complicated. I-I’d rather not- Oh, Laura!” Kristy exclaimed in a rush, just as her sister appeared. Pure relief.

It was an innocent enough question. But what could she say? _I honestly have no idea who he is?_ I’m living with him because…because I don’t know why? Nothing made sense. None of it.

“Here she is, safe and sound.” Shenzie followed behind, a large, dark Golden Retriever, all eyes and fur. Her haunches reached the woman’s knees. “I guess this means your ‘house problems’ are all taken care of?”

“Well…k-kind of, yeah. You could say that. Look, I’m really sorry to have put you out like this.” Kristy said, hurriedly taking the leash. She almost snatched it from Laura’s hands, and it left both of them staring at her like she was crazy. “…but-but it’s really kind of a mess.” Kristy reached behind herself and unlatched the knob, beginning to back out the door. “I should get going. It’s a long drive back.”

“Sure, Kris…sure.” Laura looked after her retreating form, still a little stunned. “But don’t you want to stay for coffee or something?” she called after.

“Oh, no! No.” Kristy shook her head, waving off half-heartedly, before hurrying Shenzie into the car. She knew it was abrupt and more than strange…but she couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t stand in that house and laugh. She couldn’t talk and drink coffee, make herself feel comfortable, keep a smiling face on. It was wrong. How could her life go on like normal when there was so much…so much changed? She wasn’t sure what it was. Legolas was a strange man, yes. Yes, the storms were strange too. Maybe they even were some kind of ‘rip in time and space’…but who cared? Life went on, so did everything else.

Kristy shook her head, trying to rid herself of the panicky, dark feelings threatening to engulf her. They were absurd. They didn’t make sense. It was the dark, the cold and biting wind.

She slammed the door shut and pulled out, Shenzie in the back seat. It was a long drive. The skies faded into dark clouds coiling in the west, blocking the silver stars from view. It made her feel alone, watching the highway median lights speed past in a constant, never-ending blur.

And then, she did something she told herself she wouldn’t. It would only make things worse in the end; she was sure of it. But it didn’t matter. She wanted to be distracted…from all of it, her tiredness, the dark, everything. She found the audio book marked ‘Fellowship of the Ring’, the fantasy book where Legolas’ name came from. _What could it hurt?_

After all, none of it was true.

She listened a long while. The book was well-written, fascinating actually. The introduction began in a man’s voice, a prologue telling about ‘hobbits’ and elves, hobbit holes and woods filled with wonderful, mythical things. It sounded like an actual history book; Kristy almost laughed. But it helped pass the miles away, and she listened intently.

It was half-way through the book, Kristy was almost home…and Legolas appeared. Now it was getting interesting. According to the book, he was an elf. _An elf?_ She listened more carefully; Shenzie was asleep in the back; traffic was backed up because of the roadblocks. It was stopped completely by the time she hit the city limits. Streams of red and white lights glowed in the dark, filling the windows.

Kristy sat in the car, hands in her lap, focusing in the dark, listening.

Legolas wasn’t just any elf…He was a prince _._ He was a messenger from his father, sent to this place called Imladris. Kristy couldn’t laugh, and she didn’t cry either. She just soaked it in, feeling the warm purr of the heater on her face and the deep, quiet words filling her ears.

“- Identification please?”

She handed her driver’s license out the window numbly. A mile on, the freeway finally cleared and she drove home without even thinking. In the garage, under the complex, parked, the people in the book were already on their way to some place called Moria. They were out to destroy a ring…a ring?

How dangerous was that? Couldn’t the author at least think of something believable?

Kristy shook her head at the end of the chapter, staring through the windshield, before shutting off the car and dragging Shenzie out. All of it was just plain ridiculous. Legolas wasn’t an elf, and he _certainly_ wasn’t some prince.

Why his parents named him that? Why Legolas kept up such a ridiculous facade…she didn’t know. But it was time to find out.


	9. Chapter 9

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When Kristy opened the door, peering inside, the roll away couch was folded out. Silence filled the apartment. Firelight licked at the walls and a single lamp burned. All was quiet. All was still.

Kristy almost smiled.

Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe that the night was so late… But elf or no, she thought, looking up, Legolas was beautiful. The door snapped quietly shut behind her, and she crept over until she shadowed his face in the fire. Legolas lay haphazardly in the rumpled sheets, wrapped in his own arms and a blanket. A shirt was thrown lazily over the pillows. Firelight snapped and danced on the walls, lapped at his shoulders, tinted his warm skin orange and glowing in his hair… He looked so tired, so serene, so perfect.

Kristy looked at him, sighing, wondering how such a creature could have stumbled into her life. There was just something about him…something she couldn't pinpoint… It was there and she knew it. The words of the book, Fellowship of the Ring, still floated in her head…myths, magic, good and evil. But an elf? An elf _prince,_ no less?

No. Never.

Who cared, anyway? The man curled on his side, fast asleep: this was who he was. He was Legolas. Strange, yes, sometimes even frightening…

And suddenly, Shenzie wheezed, stretched herself on her haunches, and gave a tremendous yawn.

"Okay, okay." Kristy blinked, taking a great breath of clear air. "Point taken."

She set a bowl of food out for the dog and got ready for bed. It was when she came out again though, rubbing her wet hair in a towel…that she noticed the papers. They were perfectly innocent papers. They glowed in the faint light, tucked under his side. Curious, she reached out for them.

Kristy didn't mean it. Legolas' shoulders were broad and she was tired; it just happened. When she was over him, just to take a look, her fingers nicked his chin and she brushed his ear. Instantly, Legolas was awake.

"W-" Kristy gasped.

The man grabbed her wrist in a flash, unbreakable. Legolas stared into the shadows lapping at the walls, eyes frozen, steely. They were ice blue and his heart pounded in his chest.

Dark. Cold. Fear.

"L-legolas…I'm sorry." She rasped, pulling on her hand. The warm, comforted feelings were gone instantly and she remembered what he looked like outside the hospital. Afraid. Angry. He didn't flinch; he didn't let go. He was so strong! Kristy panicked.

It terrified her.

"Legolas, let me go!"

And slowly, very carefully, gripping tighter, he murmured. "Tis dangerous to wake a Woodelf in the dark, Kristine."

Kristy looked up, wild-eyed. "Let me _go_. Please."

And Legolas let her hand slide from his grasp. He didn't look at her, not quite, but he gazed into the abyss of the ceiling. _Dark._ He dreamed of darkness: terrible things. They took no form. They haunted him like ghosts. He only remembered pain, fear, loss…an old man, slipping from a cavernous ledge. He remembered a terrible shout, the crack of a whip, dark and terrible.

Kristy stared at him, unable to move, unable to breathe. His steel blue eyes were wide, startled and…and afraid.

"Legolas," she whispered, forgetting her hurting wrist, "Are…are you all right?"

Slowly, Legolas turned his eyes to the shadowed ones above him. Then, without even knowing how or why, he breathed. "Balrog."

"Huh…I mean, what?" she blinked. Legolas was so still, so utterly silent Kristy started to pull away. The look in his eyes scared her. A person shouldn't wake up looking like that. A person's first reflex shouldn't be to _grab_ the hand touching them. It wasn't right. It wasn't normal.

"Do not leave." He rasped instantly, turning to face her. He snatched out to catch her hand, but she was too fast. She didn't get up, not quite, but she backed away. "Please…do not leave me now, Kristine. We have fought both shadow and flame. I have come…come so very far. Do not leave me now."

Slowly, the tense ripple eased and Kristy took a shallow breath. "W-what was all that about?" She stared at him rigidly, her shadow dancing over the carpet, before nodding with her chin. "Grabbing me? Growling out what- _whatever_ that was? What's the matter? What's wrong?"

"I am sorry." He said quickly in English. Legolas didn't have to guess what she wanted to know. "Forgive me…" He murmured in his own tongue. "You…you roused me from dark dreams."

"Forgive you…that's it? No explanation?" she shook her head, more confused than angry now. Legolas just pinched his lips together, refusing to answer more.

Kristy stared a moment, breathing fast, before dropping her eyes. "I…I'm sorry for waking you up."

Legolas stared, tense, before he nodded slightly. Kristy didn't press it.

And slowly, Legolas relaxed deeper in the blankets engulfing him; they were comforting, smelled fresh and warm. The two looked at each other a long minute, listening to the fire snap and burn. A gradual peace fell between them; Kristy felt the warmth of his body through the sheets. Legolas was working his way through the foggy, panicky feelings nightmares bring…reminding himself that now, right at this very moment, they weren't real.

He looked around. This was real…the pillows, Kristine's hair glowing copper in the firelight, her silhouette, the dog. Legolas blinked. The _dog?_

"Kristine!" Legolas whipped his head up in shock. It _was_ a dog…and it was bounding straight for him!

Kristy shouted and jumped up after her. It was too late. The mass of fur leapt onto the bed and crashed into him the instant he threw an arm up. He was too late again. Legolas let out a startled yelp and scrambled back, smothered in wet nose, silky hair and tongue. It was all over him!

" _Kristine_!" he shouted and they both hit the floor. A brief scuffle followed. Chaos. His first instinct was to grab the dog's neck and pull…but he refused. No. It wasn't attacking. Legolas felt his side pull and he gasped in pain. The dog had her victory then…And almost as soon as it started, Kristy was dragging the dog off him and panting apologies.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" she held onto Shenzie's collar and she clamped her arms around the dog's neck, sitting on her haunches to keep her down. "She's just upset and excited and-and-and-"

Legolas winced, holding his side. "It is all right… 'tis all right." He looked up, forcing himself off the carpet. "What _is_ that thing? You keep a street animal here in your home?"

He didn't have time to ask more, because she was pulling the creature into her room.

"What? Oh…oh I don't know." Kristy grimaced, before forcing the retriever inside, pulling the door shut. "I thought she was over that. S-she hasn't done it in months. I'm so sorry. I-I…oh," and Kristy broke off.

Legolas stood against the wall, a hand curled around his ribs. He didn't say a word, but she saw the ooze of blood in his fingers. "Oh…oh God, I'm sorry."

"Never mind." he muttered in response, glancing to her wide eyes. He took a moment to slow his breathing, keeping the pain down, before looking up and down. "The stitches are intact still."

"Does it…does it hurt?" she asked tentatively, edging just close enough to see the wound. The stitches were like an ugly black caterpillar clinging to his side.

Legolas thought about pretending he didn't understand, but instead, he took the better option. Lying. He shook his head no.

"Good." Kristy smiled in half relief, guilt etched all over her features. "I guess…I should get to bed, then?"

At the half-step she took away, Legolas looked up. He held up a hand too fast, too desperately, but being sure that his voice could come perfectly quiet and even. Then, he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, pinching his ribs with the inside of his arm for the pain.

"No…stay, please." He whispered.

English. Kristy was so startled at the words, she was too slow to think of an answer… Instead, she nodded reluctantly. "Oh…a-all right."

Legolas refused to admit it, not to anyone, but he was afraid. The darkness of the dreams would return; he knew it. He was afraid he'd wake up in the dark; he'd be alone. Maybe he'd remember something about himself that he didn't like… He didn't want to be alone, not anymore.

Legolas looked at her, felt the depression in the mattress as she slowly sat beside. He watched dark blood creep up her face. It took him a moment, glancing confused to Kristine's averted eyes and back, before making the connection and smiling. She was doing that thing with her mouth again…a self-conscious, nervous twitch. It was almost worth exposing skin just to get that reaction from her.

But that was cruel.

Legolas slowly reached back and pulled a shirt over his head, careful not to pull his arm.

"So…what now?" Kristy asked quietly, staring at the fire. It snapped and crackled on the walls, danced on the floor. The room was still again; Shenzie settled down in the bedroom.

Legolas didn't answer. As moments ticked into minutes, he began to feel sheepish for jumping at the chance to be with her. It was ridiculous. A warrior, a fully-grown man…afraid of nightmares? Afraid to be alone in the night? It was unheard of!

But then again, he'd never heard of the things that'd happened to _him_ , happening to anyone else either. And suddenly, Legolas blinked, remembering. He snapped his chin up. His eyes were bright and eager.

"Kristine! Look..." He spun around, digging through the blanket. They had to be here somewhere… Ah, there they were. Legolas found the papers, and he turned back, thrusting them into her lap. "Look…this is what I was working on before I fell asleep. Look, see? I translated them for you!"

Kristy was almost as taken-back at the sudden jumble of words as the papers pushed into her hands, but she looked down and up again. "W- oh, what? I mean, for me?"

Legolas pointed to the inside of his arm, making sure she knew what he was talking about. Then, he nodded to her hands. _Oh, what would she say?_ Would she be happy? Or just surprised…pleased he shared this with her?

He stared at her, all eagerness and anticipation.

And then, Kristy gasped. She looked up, wide-eyed, taking a drought of cold air through her teeth. "No…no." she whispered, reading it twice over again.

And then, her voice dropped. It was low and quiet, serious…deadly serious. "What-what is this?"

Legolas blinked.

"What _is_ this, Legolas?" Kristy got to her feet. God, he was lying. All of this time… all these weeks. He was a liar. He was trying to make her believe… _believe_ …no!

"Kristine…" Legolas got up after her. His heart leapt and pounded through his chest. He did something wrong. He did it again. _What did he do?_ What happened? "What is wrong?" he asked quickly.

"You liar." She spat. "You're just a worthless liar! You think I was stupid enough to believe this?"

Legolas was beginning to panic. "What happened? What is wrong?"

"You think I'm an _idiot?_ 'I am Legolas'." She read out, loud and sarcastic. It was all she could do to stop her voice from shattering. It couldn't be true…It just couldn't! "I will not _forget_."

Legolas nodded quickly. They were the words. _What was wrong?_ Were those- were those _tears_ streaming down her face? Sweet Eru. They were. Legolas' heart dropped into his stomach.

"I am an elf of the Woodland Realm," she cracked, looking up at him, "…and I will find my way home."

They stared at each other. Kristy was panting, shaking uncontrollably. Legolas just stared in blatant disbelief. Everything was fine…everything was all right. It happened so quickly!

"I know what you thought." She hissed, pointing at him. She was angry. Angry and deathly afraid; she wasn't thinking anymore. But it didn't make it. Legolas caught her hand out of pure reflex, wrenched it aside. He thought she was going to actually hit him! And the feel of her wrist clamped in his fist again ignited terror and fury.

Kristy slapped him across the face. Hard.

"You thought I'd just believe _anything_ , didn't you?" she almost shouted, "You thought you could take these storms, tell me y-you're whoever you wanted, some mythical character out of a damn book, and no questions asked!

Well I'm _asking_ questions, Legolas. And answers, too. I say no! No. I don't believe you. I don't believe you for a minute!"

And she spun around, ran into her room, and slammed the door shut.

Legolas stared after, stunned.

Slowly, he touched his cheek where the white print of her hand struck him. It still stung; it actually hurt. The paper floated to the floor from where she threw it at him, back and forth, whisking its way to the carpet. In the sudden silence came the noise of objects –pillows by the sound—being thrown at the door. Hard.

Legolas collapsed onto the bed, dazed. He thought she would be happy… Oh, how wrong he was. He didn't need to know this strange tongue. He knew what was wrong.

She didn't believe him. Not yet.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Kristy tossed and turned all night. She couldn't sleep; she couldn't even try. She couldn't stay awake either. It was impossible! So in the end, she plugged earbuds into her phone and listened to the rest of 'Fellowship of the Ring'.

The man named Boromir died at the last…at Amon Hen. It was so sad, even in her numb state, Kristy almost cried. She listened to the monotone voice and stared into the darkness. It sleeted on and off, rain pummeling the windows and beating the roof. Hour after deadly silent hour passed. Nothing happened. Nothing changed.

Sometime in the night, Shenzie left. It was a straight handled knob, one she'd figured out how to open long ago… Kristy didn't care. She didn't hear any angry shouts from the other room, so she didn't go out. Maybe Legolas wasn't there anyway. Maybe he was gone.

Good.

Kristy bit the inside of her lip, pulling her legs up and curling an arm under the side of her face. It was too hard: believe him…don't believe him. It was outlandish enough already, all of it! She'd already dealt with the abnormal. She'd already acknowledged that Legolas was from another land…maybe even another _time._ The storms were real. They _were._ So was Legolas, and the police, and-and everything. It was all real.

But this…a character from a stupid book? An elf _,_ no less? Why wasn't he an elf now then? He wasn't, was he? What did an elf look like, anyway? Like the ones in the book, tall and graceful, maybe. _Little bearded men with candy-canes?_ Kristy sighed, sat up, and slammed a fist on her clock.

Six-thirty o'clock.

Oh, it was now or never. Thinking… fighting with herself, she slid out from between the sheets and crept carefully to the door. She couldn't stay here any longer. Very slowly, she unlatched the door and shuffled out.

The apartment was dark; sunrise wasn't until seven this time of year.

First, she noticed the obvious.

The roll away couch was back in on itself. The cushions were neatly arranged, just like how they found them. Kristy looked around. They weren't here, either of them. She searched everywhere…the kitchen, the bathroom, even the closets. Legolas was nowhere! Kristy was almost out the door, panicking, going to go look for them… and she noticed the balcony door was ajar.

Kristy stepped out onto the terrace, shivering in the cold wind.

There, sheltered under the low ceiling, Legolas sat against the rails. A bundle of body and blanket was there too, Shenzie. Legolas stared out over the city, cradling her head in his lap. Kristy stared at them …and she felt her heart melt.

"Oh…Legolas," she whispered, falling silently to her knees. Shenzie peered up at her, panting in the cold air. She crouched before his lifted knees. Legolas didn't move. He just stared through her…grimacing. Angry. Confused.

_What was I thinking?_

She'd almost lost him once. Was she so ready, so willing to lose him again? There was so much fear, so much utter chaos. What was one thing more? What was one more mystery? Nothing. It didn't matter. If Legolas said he was an elf, he was an elf. If he said he was a cloud in the sky, or a tree in the fields… so be it.

She didn't say more. The dusky haze of first light lit the horizon. Slowly, gently, she stroked his face with the back of her fingers. She touched his long, silken hair. The woman leaned closer, and faintly, sorrowfully, she caressed his cheek where she slapped him. She felt the warm gusts of breath from his lips on her face.

He wouldn't even look at her.

Slowly, carefully Kristy disentangled Legolas' fingers from the gold fur, and slid her hand within instead. A long minute passed, hovering in the dusky, cold morning air, and then Kristy reached out. Legolas didn't want to give in. But she took both his hands and did her best to cover them with hers. Slowly, she rubbed his wrists, his fingers…So cold.

_An elf…?_ Oh, it was so hard, so very hard. But not impossible.

Carefully, she peered into his averted eyes… blue like steel and ice. They were so beautiful. Fathomless. Never ending. Elves were creatures of light and magic, so perfect-so perfect it hurt to look at them...just like the book.

_How could she be so blind?_ How could this man, this-this person just be another anyone? Another lost soul wandering dirty, deserted streets? If he was from another place, another time, why _couldn't_ he be another race, too?

His ears were small and round…but it didn't mean they weren't keen and pointed once. The weariness showed in his eyes like dark, midnight pools…but it didn't mean they weren't once ageless, immortal.

Kristy tentatively reached up and touched his face. Legolas turned away, but she didn't let him go… not quite. His skin was so cold; Kristy shivered. It was like he didn't feel it.

But he did. She knew he did. He liked to pretend he was unshakeable, that he was invincible. But he wasn't; his hands were like ice. He was brave and afraid. His eyes shone like stars, but he was miserable. The cool, silky fibers of hair tickling his face, his windblown cheeks, she brushed her fingers over the tops of his ears…felt how he shivered and grit his teeth shut.

And suddenly, Legolas snapped up, hissing viciously, "Do not touch me there!"

It was psychological now, but elf ears were sensitive…not many places more so. He didn't need every memory back to know that. The touch was intimate, a single stroke a lover's caress. She had no right to touch him there.

Kristy blinked. He was learning so quickly. English. But she didn't pull away. She'd hit him away once already; she wouldn't let him hit her back.

"You're not an _elf_." She whispered firmly. Legolas turned away, looking over the city. She knew he understood. He didn't want to, but he did. He wanted to deny it and he couldn't.

But Kristy wasn't finished.

"But that doesn't mean you weren't." she added just as softly. Creatures of light and magic, beauty and power, they were. It was Legolas. It was possible.

"Legolas…" Kristy whispered again. Through the loose black sweater, she slowly ran her hand down his arm and covered his fist. It was curled so tight the tendons protruded. She rubbed his hand, slowly. "Legolas…I'm sorry."

Then, she was slipping her fingers tentatively around him, drawing him closer. She scrunched her forehead, trying not to let tears fall. And then, Legolas absolutely still, silent, she brushed her lips faintly over his cheek.

It helped. Legolas didn't pull her closer…but he didn't push her away either. It felt like she was always apologizing to him, always wronging him somehow.

"I'm so sorry…" Kristy hissed a short gasp of cold air. She got up on her knees and dove to engulf him, smothered him in warmth whether he liked it or not. Kristy hugged his cold body and Legolas let her.

"I don't care. I know it's crazy…all of it. But I just don't care. I know who you are, so do you. I-I can't fight anymore." she drew back a little, just enough to laugh. "Legolas, I…I believe you!"

Legolas looked up, pushing Kristy's hair out of his face. She clung to him, lending his body heat in the cold. He wanted to fight it, he really did. But she buried herself in his chest and it felt so good…better than the dog. She stroked his hair, kissed his cheek again where she hit him.

"Got that?" Kristy laughed. "I believe you-you… you _elf_."

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**A/N: I hope you don't mind the sketchy future for updating, but I promise things will pick up. Please tell me what you think so far, and have a good day, readers. :))**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello! Hope you’re all having a good weekend (or will have tomorrow;)**

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Legolas studied for hours... Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks.

Learning English was difficult, but not impossible. _How could this ever have sounded like chaos?_ He thought, sorting through his work. It was relatively simple, really. With the Westron he’d managed to convince Kristine to learn, and a small measure of guesswork, communicating wasn’t even a problem. Besides, the two languages were similar; often, whole words were the same.

“What do you want for breakfast, Legolas?” Kristy came in the kitchen and patted his head.

Legolas was at it since midnight, and he needed sleep badly. This human body was weak. Pathetic. Ever since that first night weeks ago… the dreams just never stopped. Work helped. It distracted him. He could focus on something else. Whispers of dark voices called to him, drifted at the borders of his consciousness, reminding him of the evil he left behind… the evil he deserted.

Legolas looked up from the table and frowned. It was fast becoming an annoying habit of hers, touching his hair. The woman said it would _grow_ faster if he didn’t ignore it. But he suspected she just liked touching it. It fascinated her… And why not? The Eru-cursed woman cut it!

Legolas looked away.

“What’s the matter?” She blinked, wearing a thin, dark shirt. Legolas glanced up. It clung impossibly tight to her top and dark, faded jeans on her hips. Legolas ignored it. ‘Tank tops’, she called them, good for running, exercising, or just about anything apparently… Scandalous.

He ran a hand through his shorn hair with a sour, burned expression.

“Oh gosh… are you still upset about that?” Kristy asked, obviously referring to the hair. “My God, you _are_.”

“I said I was not angry.”

And it wasn’t a total lie.

Legolas realized weeks ago that his hair made him stand out. The police, soldiers and even passersby on the street threw him too-long looks with it. Leaving the city was already impossible; he had no identification. Kristine had to vouch for him, lie for him and smile to the soldiers at the road-blocks inside the city. It was maddening.

“I cannot help it if it displeases me.” He muttered.

“You said I could do it!” Kristy protested.

“Oh, yes…else you’d not have touched it!”

Kristy stood back on her heels, crossing her arms. Legolas almost looked over at the movement, but not quite. “… Well, you can move around a lot freer, can’t you?” she retorted. “No one stopped you for ID yesterday, did they?”

Legolas didn’t answer.

“Well, did they?” she pressed. “And don’t pretend you don’t understand me, elf.” She smirked anyway. “I know you do.”

Legolas thought about grunting, casting a dark look, ignoring her, leaving maybe. But he didn’t. Instead… he reluctantly cracked a smile.

It shouldn’t work. He didn’t know why. It just felt good to be called ‘elf’. It helped him believe, trust himself and his memories. There were still patches -- the last few weeks before coming here, mostly -- but he had all the rest back now.

“It matters little: coming, going.” He said anyway, twisting a pencil back and forth between his fingers. “I cannot leave the city. This place is a cage… and I am a caged animal within it.”

Kristy didn’t answer. The sound of sizzling eggs only broke the quiet for a while. She didn’t like it when he talked like this. Legolas must have had another bad night. _Why couldn’t he sleep?_ Why didn’t he just rest when he needed it?

She didn’t know. He always refused to tell her.

Instead, Legolas had taken up watching television. Sometimes Kristy would wake up at one or two in the morning and Legolas would be sitting in a pile of pillows, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, watching the screen. His eyes were glazed over and his mouth was a thin, tight line. Fear…anger, she didn’t know. It didn’t matter if it was commercials, a movie… even on mute. He just wanted to be distracted.

From what? From who? She didn’t know that either.

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“I miss my old clothes.” Legolas grumbled in the window seat of the store, picking at a stray thread on his sleeve.

Kristy ignored him.

There was so much work! She wished she’d never taken it on. The old miser, Corby should be doing it himself. Alice was already manning the store most of the time. The real work, the accounting, was hopelessly piling up.

“I wish I had my weapons…” he muttered under his breath. It was bad enough here without being defenseless in that city out there. “I would make them anew if this ridiculous excuse of a city had proper _trees.”_

They were picking up the stacks of order forms and tax returns she had to bring home and finish. The door front was glass like the display window where Legolas sat. Kristy switched on the lights and a glow lit the cream walls. A few loose racks of coats and distressed jeans scattered the carpet, the glass counter along the left casing rings, bracelets, a collection of necklaces… Sweaters hung high up on the walls under soft, glowing lights.

Legolas curled up on the carpeted seat and crossed his legs, staring out at the passersby through the glass. They barely noticed him. Kristy glanced over, watching as she worked, hurriedly scraping the sheets together. His eyes were gray-blue in the white light and he pressed a palm up against the glass, carefully, intently peered out. She almost smiled.

It was like a child looking in a candy store. And then, the smile faded. Her hands stilled. Legolas wasn’t a child, and he wasn’t looking in; he was looking _out_ …out to a dirty street filled with strangers. And the thought made her feel incredibly sad.

“Hey…” she forced a bright smile, “Legolas, look at here.”

He didn’t tear his eyes from the sidewalk.

“Have you seen one of these before?” she asked eagerly. “A camera?”

“Ca-mera…” he mumbled, finally looking over. “What is that?”

Kristy shoved her papers aside and came over. “Now this is a camera to be proud of.” She crawled up into the window, pushing a mannequin aside. It almost toppled over and Legolas caught it.

“See?” she shuffled down beside, “Look in here, click the button and poof! You’ve got a picture.”

Legolas remembered the sheet, the painting of his arm she’d taken those weeks ago. It was as real as life. “You did that with these?”

“Well my phone, actually…But this one’s a lot better.” Kristy turned the camera around and grinned, before nudging Legolas to do the same. “Come on, smile.”

He looked at her a little strangely, before scrunching his brows and reluctantly glancing to the mirror. The picture was strange. His eyes were too blue; his skin was pale. The thing was nasty.

“That is not-” And suddenly, he gasped. “Is that… is that what my _hair_ looks like?” he exclaimed. Legolas snatched it away from her and shuffled back. “Oh, oh this is terrible, Kristine. What have you _done_ to me?”

He desperately ran a hand through his hair, twisting from side to side to examine it at all angles. It stuck up on top and shot in all directions, curling and twisting at the ends. Only with his hands did he manage to push the long, curling locks behind his ears. They twisted and turned, silky, knotting in his fingers. It was just fine before he left. The wind made it impossible.

Disgraceful!

“I don’t know.” She mused, trying not to laugh at the sheer horror on his face. “I kind of like it.”

“Well, you be the only one, you…you _appalling_ woman.” He growled darkly. “And stop laughing. You are the one who did this to me.”

“I’ve never cut hair before.” She grinned to snatch it from him. He looked relieved at not having to look at himself anymore. “Must say it was a pretty sweet job, too. You vaguely resemble…hum, Harry Styles maybe? Kind of cute.”

“Unruly.” He corrected.

And she clicked the shutter button. Then, Kristy smiled slightly. Legolas was sulking, remembering the long clumps of flaxen hair falling to the floor as she clipped. Horrible. She tentatively lifted a stray strand of hair from his eyes.

“Don’t worry.” She said softly, staring at his lowered gaze. “You couldn’t look terrible if you tried.”

And still…it was a distraction. Legolas didn’t have to think about just how empty he felt. Sometimes, he even forgot the cold, solid wall casing in his soul, keeping him from the warmth of every creature out there.

Legolas’ shoulder brushed the cold glass and as Kristy fiddled with the device, he slowly sunk back into the dim haze. In this human, breakable body, it was like his _fea_ was trapped in a glass case that looked, but never touched. Saw, but never understood; it was like reaching out to something too far away, too cold, too distant. He just couldn’t latch onto anything, drag it back with him and let his spirit bask with it, link to it…nothing.

“…Legolas?”

He blinked, jolting his fingers from the window. Kristy stared at him, looking from his distant, longing eyes to the foggy blur where he breathed on the frigid window.

“I-I asked if you want to go home?”

Legolas slowly dragged his head out of the worthless, sinking feelings and blinked the startled look from his eyes. She didn’t need to see him like this. She already fed him, talked to him, kept him under her roof. She didn’t have to deal with his pathetic, deserted feelings too.

So, he smiled. “You are not finished here.”

“No, but…”

Legolas smiled wider, making his eyes bright. He was growing better at this. He hated how his face mirrored exactly what he felt. Aragorn often told him he was like an open book… But then, Kristine furrowed her brows in confusion. She looked over his face, obviously perplexed.

It was like reading a mask. She _hated_ it when he did that. He wiped his face of every last trace of emotion. Why did he _do_ that?

“What’s wrong?” she asked softer.

“Nothing. What makes you think anything is wrong?” he schooled his expression into a careful, neutral face.

She looked at him a long moment, concern etching her features. “I…I don’t know. But I can help, Legolas. Really I can. Just tell me what’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” He persisted.

“Look, I know you’re lying.” She sat up on her knees, leaning closer. “Why can’t you just talk to me?”

“ _Nothing_ is the matter, Kristine!” Legolas insisted with a toss of his head, turning away. “Do not perceive to know me, for you do not. When I tell you I am alright, then I am _alright._ Really, _”_ he said more gently. “I am.”

Kristy stared at him. And he was all pride and indignation again. At least that’s what she thought it was. What else could make him so distant? Why else was he shutting her out?

And then, something snapped and she quipped airily. “Fine,” before looking away. “I’ll finish here and leave.”

Kristy slid out of the window and tried not to throw her camera too hard. It landed on the plush leather couch in the corner, just under the window and she slapped her papers down on the low table. The furniture made it easier for friends to linger, visit and chat while they shopped. Kristy spread her work out and snapped her pen. She scribbled furiously almost half a sheet before realizing the ink was empty. She cursed and threw it away, before rifling almost angrily through her bag for another one.

Nothing worked. Nothing helped. No matter how good things were going, they always ended badly. No progress. _Nothing_. Stupid, damn elf.

Legolas watched it all with confusion. He forgot the lonely, cold feelings and the memories…missing Aragorn, his friend, the good ones he had of happy days, light and dappled sun pouring through maple leaves. He pushed it all down and focused.

“Kristine.” He stated.

She didn’t answer.

“Kristine, I…think I shall go walk.” He said carefully, suddenly feeling distinctly unwanted. It didn’t make sense. She was fine just an instant ago, happy. He hadn’t done a single thing to her…and now she was upset! It was just too baffling.

“Fine.” She said flatly. “Go.”

Nothing more than that came out.

And so, Legolas reluctantly pushed the door open and glanced back. She still scratched furiously at the papers, sitting on her knees under the low, glass-topped table in front. He thought about murmuring some kind of farewell…but then he thought better of it.

Legolas tried his best to keep her out of his problems, to shield her from any and all distorted emotions stampeding wildly through his feelings. He tried to keep them down, force himself not to want this contact, to miss the constant touch of his peoples’ minds to his own. It was impossible. Ridiculous. Weak. He kept her from all the wild Sylvan trying to take control of him and _still_ it angered her.

Kristine was a complex little creature. Best not to try and figure it out.

“Be back in an hour.” came a sudden voice.

Legolas spun around, blinking in surprise. The door was still open; he paused. Was that…was that a command? Did she just _order_ him to be back in an hour?

He was above it; Legolas should be above it. But he wasn’t.

“Then you will take me home.” He shot back and before she could answer, he slammed the door shut. It wasn’t a request and it was rude. Childish...just like how he felt.

Legolas walked a long time. Thankfully no one stopped him, not even the rumble of army trucks that roared past. He looked up to their faces, the soldiers in the back where the tent flaps slapped back and forth in the wind. It was just a glimpse, but they were grim, armed and ready for…for what? He wasn’t sure.

Legolas decided not to think about it. The city was more tense again; he felt it in the air, how it settled on his face and stirred his hair. He wasn’t sure what it was though.

By the time Legolas made it back, it was well more than an hour later. Kristy still wasn’t finished though, and when he came in to stand silently at the door, she opted to take the work with her and leave. She didn’t say a word to him, and neither did he. The woman locked up the store, switched the lights out.

It was a short drive home, and Legolas stared out the window. Trapped in the steel beast, the silence between them was even heavier. He ignored it. She was being sullen and ridiculous…

Droves of people filled the street at afternoon rush hour; he watched them all. How strange it was, seeing every single strange, living face…smiling, frowning…and so unable to touch. Even humans, he realized, he should be able to feel. They couldn’t respond of course, as Elvar would, but even one-sided contact was better than none. It left him feeling cold and irritated.

The car pulled into the underground garage and parked. Gentle lights crisscrossed the ceiling overhead, just enough to see ahead of him. He couldn’t wait to get out.

“Can we sit?” Kristy spoke up suddenly, just as Legolas opened the door.

He paused.

“Can we _sit_ …” she repeated. “Please.”

Slowly, unsure of what just happened, Legolas eased back into the seat and latched the door closed. Nothing came a long moment. The car was off and it was dark. Cloudy light poured in from the garage door. Then, slowly… Legolas leaned back and stretched his legs in the space ahead of him. If she was going to sit here in silence, at least it would be comfortable silence.

It was anything but that.

“Look,” she spoke up suddenly, tense, staring at the steering wheel in front of her. “I know you hate it here.” Kristy said flatly.

Legolas didn’t answer. _Well that was unexpected._

“And I know you don’t belong. I know you don’t like trying to fit in here, and-” and then, she broke off. Kristy bit down on the inside of her lip hard; Legolas watched very intently from the side. He ran his eyes slowly down the tresses pushed behind her ears. It was so short for a female; he knew his thoughts wandered. It barely brushed her…her, he looked down…chest. In the faint light, the soft, straight hair glowed a gray-lit copper, brown and gold. Beautiful.

He realized it suddenly and he scowled, pushing the thought down. Stupid mortal body.

“You know what?” she snapped suddenly, tilting her chin up. She stared at the windshield like he wasn’t even there. It felt quiet in the car, close, almost intimate to him…and he realized it actually wasn’t. She wasn’t thinking what he was at all. Kristy didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

Kristy left and slammed the door shut.

“Never mind.”

And Legolas blinked, staring after. She didn’t wait for him.

It was a very silent evening.

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Legolas worked at a round wood table in the corner, angled to see the TV on mute. Dark clouds outside flashed and poured rain again. But he was busy fleshing out his vocabulary by reading a ‘Webster’s Dictionary’. Quite fascinating, actually.

And suddenly, the lightbulb overhead snapped, blinked and cut out. Kristy was brushing the great golden dog by its light and she groaned, peering upward, before digging through the cupboard for a replacement. Legolas didn’t pay attention. He’d seen it done before: nothing interesting.

And then… he reluctantly glanced up at a short, frustrated hiss. Kristy was straining on her toes, grasping her fingertips to the ceiling to reach the fixture and Legolas watched.

“Some _help_?” she snapped angrily. It was quite a while since their spat in the store and things had eased.

Legolas just smiled, deciding his help was not called for and he worked on. Then…something caught his eyes and he stilled, surreptitiously glancing sideways. He kept his head down, but as the woman reached and twisted the device free, the shirt she was wearing was riding up… up uncomfortably far.

Legolas snapped his head down.

And then another frustrated hiss brought his eyes slowly upward and he stared.

“Why are you a foot taller than me and _I’m_ the one doing this?”

It shouldn’t interest him, not really, but he found Kristy was as tanned on her belly and down…down around her hips too. _What did she do, sit in the sun half-naked?_ Legolas refused to picture that. Parts of him wanted to badly for some reason, but he refused. Kristine was a woman and to be respected.

And then, he angled his eyes a little and as she fumbled with the edge of the hot object, Legolas idly wondered if she wanted him to look.

_Yes_? Well after all, she wore shirts like that around him on purpose. The neckline alone showed him more of her than he’d cared to see, especially when it just wouldn’t leave his head. No. She wore them before he even knew her.

So, what… _he_ was the one out of place _?_ Legolas shook his head, even as he ignored the flat, taut belly and sliver of navel on display just a few meters away. _Of course he was out of place!_ What was he, some kind of crude animal?

What was wrong with him? He’d seen both elf-kind and human stripped naked. It shouldn’t bother him. Sindar were _cooled_ to such things, schooled and trained completely. Even his wild Sylvan side should be better than that! Elves weren’t affected by such things, and neither was he.

And instead, at the next angry noise she made, Legolas ripped his eyes off the skin he shouldn’t have seen and stalked over.

“Some _help_ you lousy- _”_ And she gasped.

Legolas hooked his fingers under her shirt and forcefully yanked it down. Then, he grasped her sides and lifted. Kristy clutched his shoulders violently in surprise, and at the utter shock and terror of jolting off the floor, Legolas almost smiled. Yes. He could be helpful _and_ vengeful.

With just a single glare, she fumed a laugh and finished with the bulb.

 

That night, not much changed.

It was early when Kristy went to bed. She knew Legolas hated it when she left early. It left him alone in the apartment; she took Shenzie in with her and it left him cold, deserted.

Late that night, Kristy got up to use the bathroom and came back down the hall though, pausing in the threshold. Outside, all was dark. She worked all day on Corby’s accounting, and she was tired. She was even tired standing here.

Kristy focused in the dark.

Legolas wasn’t asleep, but he wasn’t up either. He’d drawn the drapes away from the bay window, looking out over the night city lights from across the room. Legolas was there on the rolled out bed, leaning back on the couch, his legs in the blankets.

It was like this so often. Even their tiff hadn’t changed the swell of pity she felt. Kristy knew he had trouble resting. It just seemed like she couldn’t think of anything to say… at night or in morning light. The feeling wasn’t the same now though, for some reason. Somehow, when she looked in now, she didn’t want to retreat anymore. She didn’t want to go in her room and hope he felt better tomorrow.

“Hello.” Kristy said softly, coming in.

He looked up, but didn’t say anything. No surprise there. Legolas sat in shadow, facing the square of silver light pouring through the bay window, filling the center of the room. It lit the rumpled sheets at the foot of the bed in a faint blue glow.

Kristy came to the edge of the bed and rain pattered the windows. “How’s it going?” she asked even quieter.

Legolas just exhaled a slow breath. Nothing.

He knew what she was trying to do. It was kind of her, Legolas supposed, especially after…what was it? He wasn’t sure what happened between them that day. But it wouldn’t help.

He couldn’t sleep. His head hurt with the years, the centuries…centuries of sun, wind and war. There was so much. There was joy, yes…his family, Aragorn, but so much pain too. They haunted his dreams and something...something he couldn’t place was at the head of them. Balrog…the old man, a war he couldn’t win.

“…Legolas?” she broke into his thoughts.

He still didn’t answer.

And then he felt the depression in the mattress as she slowly crawled up beside him. “Why can’t you sleep, Legolas? Please, please just tell me.”

He just dropped his eyes, staring at his knees. Nightmares…Ha. What an excuse.

A few minutes passed. Kristy curled up on the pillow against his side. She rested her weight on him like she’d done it all her life.

She looked up at him finally, wondering why he didn’t just talk. _Why couldn’t he?_ It was obvious he was upset. Heck, he couldn’t even _sleep._ And still he blocked her out! He wouldn’t even try.

Kristy chewed the inside of her lip, fidgeted a little awkwardly with a smooth pillow…before edging forward and touching a fingertip to his hand. She circled his smooth knuckles with a single finger, carefully, tentatively traced the edge of callous, the lines in his palm. Kristy didn’t say anything, didn’t even lean closer… but she didn’t leave either.

And then, her fingertip brushed a sensitive area and he shivered a smile, snapping his hand closed. Kristy jumped and almost pulled back, but at the sight of his smile in the dark, she relaxed back again and smiled too.

Legolas was getting more used to this…contact. It wasn’t exactly what he craved…the intimate, everyday brush of consciousness, but it did do something to him. He just wasn’t sure what it was yet.

They sat in the dark a long while, watching the swaying shadows across the floor in companionable silence. Legolas leaned his head back, so tired, so tired…just never quite able to sleep.

And then, Legolas cracked one eye open. Kristine’s hand was in his hair.

“Kristine?” he said quietly.

“Hm?”

He thought about it. “Never mind.”

“So,” she said softly, biting her cheek, nervously twisting her mouth into odd shapes. Legolas watched from the corner of his eyes, fascinated. It was so good not to be fighting. “…penny for your thoughts?”

“What is a penny?” he murmured. Legolas watched her lips. It was so quiet and still, he let his eyes linger where they would.

“Um, it’s kind of like a nickel…o-only smaller.” She said, unaware of his stare, but obviously aware of where she was.

“What is a nickel?” Legolas whispered. And he wondered… if by complete accident, he brushed that lip, accidentally touched it with some part of him… what would it feel like? What would she do? Would it be thin and hard; would she pull away? Or would it be smooth and soft, supple and…

And Legolas cut off the thought with an angry retort. _Yes._ And she would slap you like she did those weeks ago. You would deserve it this time.

“It’s money.” Kristy said, shaking her head and exasperated. It made her hair swish over her shoulders and leaning over, Legolas caught a faint scent cherry blossom. She must have washed her hair… “The point is, what are you thinking about?”

“Many things.” He murmured with a wry smile. And then, something told him just to relax a little. She asked. She _wanted_ to know. Legolas wouldn’t trouble her with details, but he could confide in her…a little. Surely he could.

“Have you ever wondered…” he began slowly, still ignoring her hand as it gently fondled his hair. Legolas didn’t know why he didn’t lean away. Maybe it was because he hated the feeling of his hair eight inches shorter. It was messy and unruly; he ran his fingers through it and it wasn’t even quite long enough to braid.

At least _someone_ enjoyed it.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to…start life anew? From nothing, I mean, as another person?” he whispered.

Kristy thought about it. “I guess all of us do that, sometimes.”

A little while passed. Legolas drew a blanket over his legs. He was cold and she slipped under it too. He thought about it a long while, almost didn’t say the words lingering in his mouth. But very quietly, very reluctantly, he did.

“Kristine, would it…it matter if I told you I was not the person you thought I was?” he asked carefully.

She didn’t bother waiting this time. “I guess that depends.” She smiled slightly. “Don’t worry, Legolas. I know who you are.”

He sighed, looking down. “Well, that is good. For sometimes, I feel I do not.”

“Oh, Legolas…” she murmured. He was so quiet, so tired. Kristy reached up, gently touched his pale face in the faint light, before tugging him closer. Legolas didn’t even resist. “What’s the matter?” Kristy whispered into his hair. He closed his eyes and sunk into her, pressing his face limply to her chest. He felt her heart beat under her skin…slow, quiet, rhythmic.

“I am a prince, Kristine.” He whispered in a rush. Legolas slid his arms around her and crushed his face in her warm flesh, squeezing his eyes shut in the dark. He curled his fingers into fists, breathing in the lilac on her skin and the warm smell of it.

“I am the prince of my _people_ , Kristine.” He sighed.

“I know.”

“You do?” he asked, surprised. At her slight nod, still holding his head in her hands, he scrunched his brows together. He let his thoughts sink back down again, “…I should be there for them, Kristine. There is war and darkness there; I know this. It bears down on my people like a shadow. They are afraid and they fight so valiantly… Ellon, elleth die every day. They shall think their prince deserted them in their hour of need, crumbled before the coming darkness. What hope is there for them?”

Kristy looked away, pressing her eyes shut in the dark.

Legolas breathed slowly, focusing on each individual sound…the ticking clock, the heartbeat under his ear. “My father is the king.” He continued after a little while. He wasn’t sure why he told her this. _But why not?_ For all he knew, he’d die here. He’d die here and no one save this woman would know how or why.

“He is a great and fearless leader.” He whispered. “He has lead them through good times and bad. No matter how the earth trembles and the skies fall, he stands tall. He would not be where I am. He would find a way… He would fight his way home no matter the cost, crush anything that barred his way. I am not that man, Kristine.” He said softly. “I fear I never will be.”

Kristy didn’t quite know what to say. She already knew he was a prince…It was disturbing, yes. Knowing that he knew was more even yet. But here, it really didn’t matter. The prince was just as lost and alone as the boy was, man or not.

“When…if…I get back, they will ask me how I stood here and could not find my way home. They will ask me how a leader of their own people could not lead himself.”

She thought a long while. “You know, an old doctor once said something about that.” Kristy said, gently fingering a strand of his hair in her hands, “Be who you are, because those who mind don’t matter. Those who matter don’t mind.”

“Who was that?” he asked softly.

“Doctor Seuss.” Kristy smiled.

“Hm. He must be a wise and learned man.” Legolas murmured sagely.

Kristy smiled harder. “I guess he is.”

A little while, and then… “Kristine?” he said suddenly.

“Please don’t call me that.” Kristy sighed.

He blinked. “Why?”

It was a long moment before she answered. Legolas began to think she wouldn’t at all. But eventually, she said, “I…I guess Mark was the only one who ever called me that.”

“Who is Mark?” he asked curiously, staring into the dark and swaying shadows. He saw her hair sway as she turned her head, and he felt her body still.

“Just some guy.” She whispered.

“Lover?” he guessed.

Kristy almost laughed. It was a sad, ironic laugh. “I wish.”

Legolas immediately regretted his words. He was only teasing. “But who is he?” he asked curiously.

“No one.” Kristy was let her fingers stay knotted in his hair a long minute, before bursting out in a whisper. “You still haven’t told me what’s wrong with you!”

Legolas was silent a long while. “Even when you are there…” he said softly, honestly. “…it feels like I am alone.”

Legolas pulled back enough to look in the shadow of her eyes. Kristy just blinked, obviously surprised at his admission. Legolas grimaced then, trying to force out some of the feelings making him want to touch her, react now to everything.

“Without your _fea_ and my own, it is like living in a glass box.” He whispered quietly. “Always, I can feel the spirit, the _fea_ of others. I cannot understand why I miss it so.”

Legolas slid up so Kristine nestled against his chest. He slid his fingers into her hair, stroked it from her ears, put his chin on her head. He pressed his face in it, rested comfortably in the cushions. And he buried his face in her neck, before rolling over so he could feel her under him. Kristy felt the sudden urgency in his movements and it startled her. She almost felt…afraid. But not quite.

All those days, weeks that she touched him and he wouldn’t respond came flooding back. It felt good that he reached out and latched on…even if it was literal. They lay like that a long time, breathing together, crushed in the depth of the darkness and distant traffic, ticking clocks, footsteps in the apartment above.

It was strange how he didn’t hear it. None of it.

“You mean…you mean you’re lonely?” Kristy whispered slowly, pressing her palm flat on his chest.

He just smiled, his head over her shoulder. _How do you explain such a thing?_ “Who is Mark?” he asked instead.

“Nobody, I swear.”

Then, he smiled mischievously. “If you tell me, I will tell you a secret of my own. One that half my father’s kingdom doesn’t know!”

Kristy pursed her lips. “How’s it a secret if half your dad’s kingdom already knows?”

“Because I have gone to _great_ lengths to keep it hidden from my oldest and closest friends.”

“Oh…alright.” She sighed reluctantly. “But only because I’m such a sucker for a secret. You first.”

Legolas inhaled, then exhaled. He lifted his head, arms still engulfing her waist, and he mumbled darkly. “My father has, for all practical purposes, arranged a marriage for me.”

Kristy gasped, “ _what_? Why…I mean, why would he do that?”

Legolas smiled slightly. And suddenly, he sat up a little and pulled Kristy closer. She peered at him curiously, trying to ignore how close his face was to hers. He didn’t seem to notice…he never noticed. But his body was incredibly warm in the cold and she shuffled up tighter in it.

“Horeneith is the daughter of an old and dear friend to my father.” Legolas explained. “Since I was born, you see, we were pledged and it was hoped that we would someday…consummate, that pledge.”

Kristy tilted her head back, eyeing him. “Do you plan to?”

Legolas snickered. “Not if I have anything to say of it.”

“A real dog, huh?” she laughed.

“Dog?” he leaned his head back, “No. She is elf-kind, not canine.”

“No, no. I mean she’s ugly or something, right?”

At that, Legolas laughed hard, throwing his head back. “Ah, no! She is absolutely lovely, as all Elvar. How could you think her otherwise?” Then he sighed. Legolas looked into nowhere, and as their words settled into comfortable silence, he let himself think about where he was.

The feeling was… queer.

Here he was in the middle of the night, a city outside vast, both sleeping and bustling. He didn’t feel it. They were in a world all their own. Darkness engulfed them and he snuggled into it, the arms and warmth of a girl he barely knew. His sylvan side approved. The other half, his father’s half, the Sindar… he could feel frowning on him with that cold, disapproving glare. He imagined just what his father would say. It showed weakness. Vulnerability. Defenselessness.

And then, unlike weeks…days ago, he decided he didn’t care. He was here alone with no one to watch over him, no one to monitor his actions or his words. He’d do as he pleased.

So Legolas hugged Kristy tighter and didn’t care that she took in a short breath of surprise. He smiled slightly and felt her welcome him completely. He’d born this alone for long enough.

“What’s wrong?” she asked anyway, with the same urgency he let bleed through his fingers. Every movement leaked his feelings and he tried to hide them. But it didn’t work.

“How could I love anyone so perfect, anyway?” he avoided the question.

“Perfect?”

“Oh yes.” Legolas smiled fondly, remembering. “She was always so…flawless. Even as children, she was so content just to sit at our studies and listen to the tutor. Her marks were always perfect too, and yet she’d never let me copy them!” Legolas laughed. “She refused to join the guard. That is why perhaps, we drifted apart. I drew closer to…others, others who fought with me like fire.” Legolas trailed off.

In the blackness, Kristy missed the whisper of longing in his eyes as he murmured the last. “You were a _cheater_?”

“Of course!” he forced himself to brighten. “How do you think I became so good with the bow?”

“I don’t know. Practice?”

He nodded. “And time. Now tell me who this ‘Mark’ is.”

Kristy sighed, slowly dropping her eyes. “He’s just…just some guy. I used to work with him back when, and-and I guess he just never noticed me. He ended up marrying…marrying my sister.”

“I see.” Legolas said quietly. He thought about not saying a word, just letting her sit there with him in silence. But then, without even knowing why, he murmured. “Sister…dwarf…little difference.”

And so, Legolas exhaled slowly and let his head sink. It wasn’t long later that slumber sunk over him, gradually…He sighed softly and at least for a few quiet hours, they slept. Kristy didn’t know what to make of his comment, and she didn’t try.

 

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**A/N: I hope you liked chapter nine, because Aragorn is coming and bringing a friend. Any questions or comments, please drop a review. :-)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello again! So you might have noticed there was quite a time-gap between the last chapter and the one before that, several weeks. So just a heads-up, there might be a chapter (or two) inserted in there later. I’m not sure when, but I’ll let you know. Nothing big or momentous, just more Legolas getting a grip on our world…Thanksgiving, human nightclub girls, maybe his weak, easily-intoxicated body in a bar! We’ll have to see. Let me know if you like/dislike the idea.**

**Anyway, just felt the ball had to get rolling on the story. So here it is. :))**

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_Tick…tock…tick…_ Kristy breathed gently, buried deep under the covers. She was in her own bed; Legolas had fallen asleep in her arms and she’d held him a long while into the night, listening to his quiet breathing. Even in her dreams, she remembered his head in her lap, stroking his hair… And she smiled in her sleep.

December sixteenth, Friday morning: it was another work day. The streets were quiet, for once. They let no cars out on the streets at night. And suddenly, Kristy stirred. It wasn’t the alarm clock, wasn’t the TV. It wasn’t traffic either. _A shout, a short cry…_ What was it?

The door was open and she blearily cracked her eyes open, just enough to catch a glimpse of the living room. The blinds were shut. It was still dark out and…and Legolas! Kristy froze.

He was thrashing and screaming.

Kristy flew upright, bouncing on the bed wide-eyed. _Legolas._ She scrambled out from between the sheets and on the way out, smacked her head on the door. It was still throbbing when she staggered into the living room, holding her face, and she fumbled to turn the lamp on. He was sweating and panting, shouting violent curses in English and Sindarin. The sheets were a mass of fists and writhing body. His chest glistened in the night with sweat and fear.

“L-legolas, it’s all right.” She hissed, wincing in the bright light of the lamp. But his hand flew and snagged the chord. Instantly, the whole thing crashed to the floor and the bulb shattered. Kristy grimaced. There wasn’t any light in the apartment. “Legolas, stop!”

Kristy shoved the thing aside and jumped over, kicking away shards of glass. Legolas was going to hurt himself if he didn’t wake up. The woman climbed up on the bed and grabbed his bare shoulders, forcing him down. His skin was hot and damp and his chest heaved wildly. Shorn hair flew over his face.

“Legolas!” she thought she had him, panting, shaking over him. But it was a mistake.

He was too strong.

One arm flew up and smashed Kristy in the face. She landed hard and she gasped, feeling automatic tears swell in her eyes. Blood filled her mouth where she bit her tongue. But she swallowed it down and shook her head.

“Legolas…calm down. It’s alright!” Kristy urged, trying to suck the blood from her mouth to speak. She didn’t dare touch him, trying to urge him awake with her voice. “Nothing’s happening. You’re all right! Wake up. Wake _up._ ”

And something happened. The man thrashed and froze, trembling violently, eyes fluttering open. He couldn’t breathe. He was taking in gulps of air like he was drowning, waking from a nightmare. Kristy didn’t risk reaching out, on her knees beside him…but she didn’t have to.

“Kristy…” He gasped. His body jolted under him; he couldn’t stop. The knowledge of what happened, the fear shot through him like a bolt of lightning, and Legolas couldn’t grasp it yet. He fumbled for her. “Kristy…Kristy…” he pleaded without knowing why, and before he knew it, he felt her skin under his hands. Blessed relief. He felt his face in her hair and he grabbed on fiercely.

“Legolas…it’s all right,” she whispered, breathing fast, stroking his damp hair in her hands. Her eyes shot wildly over the wall and he fairly crushed her ribs with the force of his hold. He hugged her like a lifeline. “It-it was just a bad dream.” She managed. “It’s over. I-I promise. It’s all over.”

Legolas shook his head ‘no’, but he didn’t let go. He refused. Kristy engulfed his neck in her arms and his fear, terror, pain ran through his hands to her skin. She felt his wild heartbeat crushed under her body, gradually slowing…pounding through his veins.

And then the pain stung through her adrenaline rush. Legolas’ fingers were digging into her back; the world was spinning and he could barely see. He squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed Kristy’s hair in fistfuls, burying his face in it. It smelled so good…It was so warm and fresh. It soothed him and he breathed deep and fast, trying to think. He didn’t shake so violently and Kristy couldn’t pull away. He tightened when she tried.

So, very… very carefully, Kristy caressed his silky, damp hair, whispered soft words of comfort to him. Every muscle in his bare back was rigid, and slowly, it began to ease. She rubbed her palm in slow circles, his shoulders, cradled his neck, hugged his body just as tight as he did. She rocked back and forth with him, slowly, gently.

And it worked.

Legolas gradually eased back, still taking quick, uneven breaths. He gripped a strap of her thin shirt to keep her there and he whispered, “Kristy…we-we have to go. We must leave _now._ This very instant; there’s not a minute to waste!”

Legolas felt the warmth of her body and her face was flushed. It clung to his cold skin like fire in the chilly night.

“What are you talking about?” she murmured, forcing her voice to stay calm. She’d never seen him like this. It frightened her. Not since that first night so long ago, so long, when he was sick and delirious, calling for help, for someone…anyone. It was like he was a different person. The man was controlled and schooled; this one was terrified.

Legolas clutched her face, stroked her cheeks hard with his thumbs. “Listen to me, Kristy. Listen.”

She blinked. Kristy _. He called her Kristy._ All these weeks of ‘Kristine’, never once a nickname, endearment, nothing. It was so shocking, so joyous, she almost laughed in spite of the fear gripping her stomach. “What is it, Legs?” she whispered.

Legolas didn’t care this time.

“If you have ever trusted me in your life, ever believed me in anything, believe me now. We _must_ leave.” He was still shaking, he knew it, but he couldn’t stop. What the golden woman had shown him, he had to act on it. “Take your things, Kristy, whatever you need. Food, clothes…I know not how far we must go.”

Kristy grimaced. “Oh Legolas, what are you talking about?” she reached up and took his face in her hands. She tilted her head, petting his hair back, and looked deep in his eyes…They were black with fear. “This is ridiculous. Pack up and _leave?_ I can’t just jump in the car and drive off. There’s work and-and-”

“Kristy…” he whispered. “Please. There’s no time for this now. We must go north of the city, far north. Nothing will be right unless I can get there. I will tell you where to go. I will not fail; just _trust_ me now _._ ”

Kristy couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. Indecision dropped through her like a lead weight and she just sunk, furrowing her face and whimpering. “I…I can’t.”

“You can.”

“But I don’t understand!”

“… I know, Kristy.” he whispered even fainter. “I do not either, little one.”

_Little one?_ What was happening? Was the world gone mad?

And then, Kristy felt a light brush of his fingers under her face. He carefully lifted her chin, so close…so close se could feel the faint, quick quivering breaths she took in.

The very world seemed to fade out and she peered upward, Legolas’ face so perfect, so…flawless she couldn’t even breathe. _Why was he like this now?_ She couldn’t understand. They bantered, yes, fought over silly things just for the sake of it. Teased each other even when the language gap made it just plain silly… _Why was he so close?_ Why did he ask her this?

Legolas held her; if he’d wanted to do anything… touch her, kiss her… he could have. One hand slid through the warm locks of her hair and the other her body, engulfed in warmth and darkness, familiar. But he didn’t.

It was the first time he felt that he didn’t need the presence of her _fea._ Legolas leant down and pressed his forehead to hers. He didn’t need it to know her. He could tell what she was thinking just by feeling her, breathing her in. He had the heat of her skin, the pulse under his hands, hammering out a breathless rhythm. She was frightened. Terrified. There was no question.

“Trust me.” Legolas murmured.

“And what’ll happen…i-if I do. Pick up and get out of here?” she whispered shakily. “What’ll happen then?”

“I do not know. But all will be answered in time. Our problems will be solved.”

“How in heck do you know that?”

“I know because she promised me.” He said more adamantly.

“… _she?_ ” Kristy blinked, agape and pulling back. _Now there was a ‘she’?_ How many she’s did he know?

“Yes.” He insisted. “Now, will you trust me, or will you not?”

And whether she did or not, Kristy stupidly couldn’t say ‘no’. So she hissed a sharp breath through her teeth and growled. “You’d better be right about this, elf.”

Legolas forced a brilliant grin and slapped her leg. “Then hurry! There’s no time.”

Kristy muttered into thin air. Legolas had leapt off the bed already, grabbed his clothes off the floor and dashed into the bathroom.

“I’m gonna regret this.” She whispered in the dark. But she took off after him. As soon as they were in the car, he was going to explain every single bit of this in detail.

“Legolas!” she dragged her suitcase out and hurriedly stuffed everything she could find into it. _What to get?_ Food, yes. Clothes, a coat, make-up…obviously. Her hands were jittering violently and hot blood raced through them. “What about Shenzie, Legolas? She can’t stay here alone.”

“Leave her.”

“What _?_ I’m not doing that!”

“Call your sister. She had her before, did she not?”

Kristy muttered. “Well, what about the curfew?” she shot back. “No one’s allowed on the streets before five o’clock in the morning. What do you say to _that_?”

It was black outside. Her lamp was dim and she worked in the dark, making her feel like a criminal on the run.

“ _Legolas_.” She insisted, diving to her knees and dragging boots out from under the bed. She didn’t bother shutting the door to change her pants. Legolas was in the bathroom anyway, and she had a hard time yanking them on. “What do we do about the _curfew_?”

“What is a coor-few?” he hissed, appearing in the doorway.

Kristy pulled her belt buckle and bounced onto the bed, trying to zip up black boots. Her fingers were shaking though and it stuck. She fought with it angrily, before Legolas darted in, dove to the floor, and pulled them up for her. “You know,” she said, stuffing clothes in the bag as he did. “…the time limit for civilians. Remember when we had to _sneak_ just to get back after Laura’s party?”

Legolas groaned, snatching a bag from her floor and whirling out with it. He packed extra clothes…and a hair comb. Kristy almost laughed, but not quite. “I don’t care. It is nearly five o’clock anyway. We have no time to wait.”

“Okay, okay…” She mumbled, stalking to the kitchen with a bag.

Kristy threw in any non-perishable food she could find…beans, water, canned soup. Ever since the power failures, Kristy got two independent lamps from the store and packs of batteries. She took those too. Candles, soap, lots of matches, toothbrush… and a totally worthless item just for her: a speaker to plug her phone in.

Well if she was gonna be wandering into who-knew-where with just food and clothes, at least she’d have music!

“Listen Corby,” Kristy said, dialing his number and leaving a voice mail. “I-I can’t come into work today.” Her voice was shaking. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t stay. I’m not sure when I’ll be back either, but I’ll try to get to the store by Monday morning. I swear. I swear I will.”

When she hurried out, struggling with two bags, pocketing the phone and her coat, Legolas was already waiting. He paced back and forth impatiently like a caged tiger, and his pale, unruly hair was tousled.

“ _There_ you are.” He said, snatching the two cases from her like they weighed nothing. Kristy was too busy fighting with her coat to comment on it. Besides, his fierce, fearful eyes didn’t look up to teasing compliments. “Hurry up…Move.” Legolas swung the door open and they walked quickly down the hall. He kept the bags under one arm and his hand firmly in the small of her back, rushing her onto the elevator.

They didn’t have to wait.

“Are you going to explain _any_ of this to me, now?” Kristy spun around in the lift. She snatched her suitcase back and in the process, Legolas kicked the button for the basement. “I had to call Corby, you know.” She snapped. “I had to tell him that I can’t come into work. _Again._ Do you know what that means?”

Legolas didn’t answer. He just clamped his mouth in a thin line and braced himself as the doors slid shut and they started to drop. He hated elevators. “We have no time, Kristine. I’ll tell you what I can when we-”

And Kristy froze. “Legolas!”

Before he could even answer, the flickering lights overhead came to a violent, crunching end. The screech squealed through the shaft and they…they were picking up speed! Legolas threw the bags down and grabbed the wall, bracing himself. Kristy screamed and the lights flared. Something was happening. The lights burned brighter yet and Kristy hit into the wall, holding on. They were in a free fall, plummeting earthward.

“Hold on!” He shouted through the squealing cables.

And then, with a violent slam it was over.                              

The lights went out, and above the glass, they shattered. The lift stopped. Kristy flew down with the impact, banging her head on the floor. Everything was dark. She couldn’t see. Her stomach was still three floors up, and she coughed, struggling not to vomit.

“Kristy!” came a sharp whisper. She heard Legolas push the suitcase aside and he felt over the floor for her. “Hurry. Get up.”

“ _Drat_ you, Legolas!” she pushed off the hard wood, hitting his hand off. Her head cleared and with a rush of adrenaline, she threw her head back. Legolas shook the sting off with a frown.

“Are you all right?”

Kristy grimaced. “Besides being stuck in a deserted elevator? Great. Just fabulous.” It was pitch black, empty dark space everywhere. She tried to see, but she could barely make out Legolas’ silhouette. “Oh, what did you have to get us in this stupid elevator for?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” He protested.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t-”

“- Ssh! Quiet.” he interrupted. “Listen.”

So she did… Reluctantly.

… _Sirens?_ Something, whatever happened here, was definitely happening out there. The sounds were all too familiar. Once was once too often. Oh...it couldn’t be, not again!

But it was.

“What-”

Legolas clapped a hand over her mouth. “Ssh!”

Reflex almost bit his hand. She didn’t have a chance though, even if she wanted to.

The ground was trembling outside and lights would be flashing, windows flaring in a brilliant power surge, overloading and snapping out. Police would be everywhere. The army already declared martial law and they’d already confiscated every gun in the city. _What more could happen?_ Was she going to have to run through a panicking city again? The storms were back and they were heading straight long into it!

That stupid elf was going to get her killed. She didn’t want to do it again. She _couldn’t._ Kristy hissed, frustration fizzing over the brim and she said. “Shit. I’m not going out there Legolas, and you can’t fucking _make_ me!”

“Watch your tongue.” Legolas snapped and she clamped her mouth shut angrily. “I am not making you do anything.”

“Oh? Oh really, you’re not?”

“I am going myself, _Kristine,_ whether you come or not. If you want to stay here, then be my guest! I’m not stopping you.”

Kristy glared into the darkness where she knew he was. And then, pursing her mouth in a frown, she muttered. “Oh yeah…only because you know I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

“Yes.” He said, letting his breath slow. Then, he murmured quieter. “…I do know that. And I am glad.”

“Yeah…well,” Kristy glanced down, rubbing her ankle, “how do we get out of here?”

Legolas shook his head, before getting up and feeling for the doors. He braced himself and pried his fingers between the metal. There was an instant of quiet, and then a _creak_ came and he pulled them apart. Legolas squinted up. There was a gap about a foot and a half wide, just enough room to squeeze through. Faint light strained through the gap.

“We’re between floors, Kristy. But I think there’s enough space to get through the doors. Come here.”

Kristy got up off her knees. A spurt of pain came up her left ankle and she winced, before limping over. It was just twisted. “What do we do about the luggage?”

Legolas spun around, as if remembering, before reaching to push the two small bags up and over. They could barely see the carpet of the tenth level, and only the third bag wouldn’t fit through the gap. It was too big. “What is in this?” he asked.

“Um…food?” Kristy guessed.

“We do not need it.” he tossed it away, landing with a _bang._ It didn’t matter. “I can hunt for us. Hurry up!” he beckoned impatiently. “We have to move _._ ”

“Well how am I going to get all the way up there?” she protested, craning her neck back. “I can’t even reach it.”

“Give me your leg. I will boost you up.”

“You’re not going to lift me!” She spluttered, mostly because she wasn’t crazy about putting her boot in his hands. “Lemme stand on the suitcase.”

Legolas almost sighed. “Do not flatter yourself, Kristine. As if you were too much for me…?”

“Oh,” she clenched her fists, fighting indecision. “… _fine_.”

He took the back of her knee, and in an instant, he hefted her up to the opening. Kristy landed on her belly with a grunt, and he managed to push her through the narrow gap.

Up above, Kristy dropped down on her heels and her heart hammered through her veins. A string of faint yellow bulbs lit the dark hall, reserve power in the basement. Even in the frightening dark though…she had to laugh. Legolas leapt up after her, and he had to twist and push to get through.

“It’s a good thing you’re skinny, Legs.”

Legolas grimaced, pulling himself out on his arms. “Keep quiet.”

They slammed the trunk shut and climbed into the little silver car, down in the parking lot a few minutes later. Shenzie was piled in the back seat, whining and barking. As long as they had to take the stairs, Kristy insisted on running back for her. Laura could have fed her, but Kristy just couldn’t leave her in a dark and panicking city.

So they drove down the dark, flashing city streets as fast as possible in the pounding rain. Sirens were wailing and storm clouds cracked across the skies.

“Can you not go any faster?” he whispered, “If this Pricks cannot make it through, we must walk and it will be too late!”

“Pricks?” she grimaced, before shaking her head. “Oh… no, it’s _Prix_ , Grand Prix, and it’ll make it. You just worry about those road blocks.”

Legolas buckled up and gripped the restraints. They were almost to the city limits now.

And suddenly, the car slowed. Up ahead, broad beams of yellow light shot from tall masts. Kristy gasped. Soldiers were everywhere, army soldiers, running back and forth at the station. It was chaos…at least to her untrained eyes. A guard station had a roadblock set up; police guarded the fence. Kristy slammed on the brakes and swerved before they could see her. Men were running back and forth, a voice barking out orders and blaring through a loud speaker.

“Legolas,” she hissed. “We can’t get through _that_!”

“We have to.” He insisted. “Just drive through.”

“Are you nuts? They’ll arrest us.”

“Not if you refuse to stop. Just keep going.”

Kristy shook her head. The rain was heavy and there was confusion; it was true. It’s possible she could race through, break the flimsy wooden block. _But what about coming back?_ What about cameras? They’d get her license plate and have every law enforcement officer on alert for miles.

“Alright,” she panted, gripping the steering wheel, thinking hard. “But we gotta black out the front windows, they’re un-tinted, and cover the license plates.”

“Very well. Make it fast.”

Legolas jumped out of the car and got the blanket from the back seat. Under the cover of night, rain and buildings…he ripped it in two pieces for the license plates, while Kristy used his jacket and hers to push up against the inside of the side windows. Rain streaked down his face and hammered on the roof. They slammed the door shut, pinning the coat against the door seal, and before he even buckled, Kristy stomped on the gas and swerved out into the open.

“Duck.” She said. They only poked up again long enough to make sure no one jumped in the way. And then…the guard station coming up fast, shouts of panic, shouts to stop… the bumper slammed into the wood rod and shattered in a hundred pieces.

“Move!” Legolas shouted and his head slammed into the seat. Kristy almost lost control. They hit and bounced off the glass, exploding. “Don’t stop!”

And she didn’t.

Tires squealed on wet pavement and they broke out onto the highway, reaching fifty…sixty…seventy miles per hour. They were free. The men didn’t have a chance to reach their trucks or give chase. By the time the soldiers stationed at the border could catch up, Kristy turned off the highway, dug out her phone, and used the GPS to find the nearest open freeway.

Safe.

“Sweet Mänwe…” Legolas breathed. Water ran from his hair, into his eyes and he blinked furiously. Somehow, he didn’t actually think it would work. He didn’t understand so many things about this world! A part of him thought those men could just reach out, snare them in a net, shoot instantly and send them tumbling into a ditch. It shocked him more than he thought it would.

“I suppose…” he said quickly, gripping his seat and staring at the streaming freeway rushing past. “…I suppose the men of your world are just that, after all. Men.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” she agreed.

Legolas cracked the door, pulled his coat back in, and slammed it shut. He realized he was smiling. _Smiling._

“What are you grinning like a damn Cheshire cat for?” she snapped the instant she realized it. “We could have been _killed_ back there. You think they call martial law for nothing? Think it’s just a big game to them?”

Legolas forced the smile from his face, shaking his head. Kristy was deadly serious. Her voice said so. “No, of-of course not.”

“Then what are you laughing for?” she turned her head and Legolas looked up. Then, he almost stopped breathing in surprise.

Kristy was grinning like mad. He’d never seen such a wild gleam in her eyes... Her teeth were sparkling red like a wolf on the run, and he could see the tip of her tongue. It was bleeding, staining her lips red…and still she grinned! Rain pounded the windshield and he blinked, realizing she turned back to the sleet with a more serious expression.

And then, Legolas broke into barely restrained, nervous laughter.

“Nothing to laugh about?” he chided. “Perhaps not, but it feels good. Does it not?”

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” She growled felinely. “Those stupid road blocks, stupid lines, _stupid,_ stupid traffic jams and their regulations!” She hit the steering wheel in pent up, released frustration. “ _Damn_ it! We’re going to have to do that again sometime.”

Legolas disagreed, but he didn’t say so. She didn’t want to do it again…and Legolas knew it.

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“So, what’s all this about?” Kristy said quietly, once the rain subsided some and the frantic beating of the windshield wipers slowed. Traffic was nonexistent; just the white high beams glowed down the freeway.

Legolas could breathe easy now. He undid his seatbelt and slid down in the seat, stretching his long legs in the small space afforded. The smell of the car, so new and foreign before, was familiar to him and he breathed it in. He felt the wheels under him thrumming against the pavement, speeding them along…closer and closer to where he had to go.

“I had a dream.” Legolas murmured, opening his eyes just a slit. His heart was slow and quiet, thinking. But in the small confines of the car, Legolas felt her tense beside him.

“A dream…”

“Yes.” Legolas looked over. “But not just any dream. I saw the Lady of Light. She came to me.”

Kristy didn’t answer. She just stared at the road ahead.

“I’ve seen the Lady of the Wood but once in my long life, and that was when we journeyed to Lorien. The rest, I cannot tell you. For that journey is secret.”

“Secret journey?” Kristy burst out in dry laughter. “Legolas, anyone who’s read that book knows what your ‘secret journey’ is, _and_ that evil ring.’”

Legolas snapped his chin up. “Book? What book? What do you speak of?”

Kristy sighed. “Never mind. It probably wouldn’t be good for you to read it.” she focused in the dark, staring through the windshield at the dark, rushing road, before saying softer. “Now tell me what this supposed ‘light lady’ wanted.”

“Supposed _?_ I tell you, it is the _truth_.” Legolas shuffled forward and turned to face Kristy, folding one leg up under him. “Listen now. Lady Galadriel can speak, through her mind, to anyone she wishes. She wields one of the Rings, an elven ring of power. Do you see?”

“I remember something like that.” Kristy muttered. “What about it?”

“I have lived many years, Kristine. The rift opened and with the power of that ring, she kept it open long enough to explain it thus. This pathetic human body can barely register the centuries, the things I have seen. Lady Galadriel returned everything to me, all that was left…even the journey here. That was what I relived when you had… difficulty… waking me.”

“That doesn’t explain why we’re out here, Legolas!” she broke in, before sighing, shaking her head. “You still haven’t told me why we _crashed_ through that barrier, why we’re taking off into the middle of nowhere, and-and some psychic, spirit lady got into your head. _Why,_ Legolas?”

The man just sighed. “Calm down.” he said quietly. If she was this upset now, what would she do when she heard what he had to say? Legolas wasn’t looking forward to this. “…and can we speed up?” he glanced to the speedometer. It read seventy.

“Oh, oh sure.” Kristy growled, accelerating slowly until it hit eighty. “Why not? I can break the law for you, _lie_ for you. Why not speed, too?”

Legolas was about to say something back, but his words froze half way out. _She was upset._ He stared at her eyes as they focused on the road, hard and tense. She was upset… And she was right. Of course she was right!

She had done so much for him, risked so much. But there wasn’t anything he could do about that; not now.

“I know you have made sacrifices for me, Kristine.” Legolas said quietly, dropping his eyes. He listened to the dark and the crash of wind buffeting against the windows. He let himself feel guilt. This was all his fault. True…he didn’t exactly ask to come here. But he did drag Kristy into this.

And now they weren’t alone.

“I’m sorry.” the woman said even quieter. “I didn’t mean that.”

“No,” he stared at his fists, slowly rubbing his knuckles. “It is I who should be sorry.” then he looked up. “But there’s nothing I can do about that, Kristy. You must believe me. Hear what I have to say.”

She nodded.

So, with a deep breath, Legolas turned his eyes to the front window, and he told her every memory he had of Galadriel’s vision.

“A vast sea of stars was thrown at my feet.” he began. “She came to me dressed in moonlight and silver. Her hair was as gold and warm as the sun, her eyes like shining diamonds in the night. Lady Galadriel was as beautiful as that first night we came to her in the wood.”

Kristy glanced sidelong. _Beautiful?_ Legolas had never used that word before.

“We came to her dirty, tired, bedraggled. We had lost one very…very dear to us. But they were as shining beacons of hope to us. Ah, Gimli was struck by her beauty then. _Hopelessly_.” he added for good measure, and she frowned, but didn’t comment. “It was just a few days following that night when we arrived. There were _yrch_ attacks to their wood and the Marchwarden, Haldir, he left to keep them down. I went with him, just to help and…and that is when it happened. I felt so useless. I wished to help clear the borders! We were outside of Her protection. The Elven ring of power could do nothing to stop it.”

“So the storm hit, you fell in. Boom! You’re here.” Kristy waved a hand. She was struggling to keep her eyes on the road and find eyeliner at the same time. All that talk about elf beauty made her glad it was dark out. That dumb elf was used to supermodels. “Now tell me why we’re here, huh?”

“Well, Aragorn naturally heard wild tales of what happened to me. He went with one of the Lady’s guard, I know not who, to search for me. They waited where the guards told them, and… and he is here.”

“Aragorn?” Kristy gasped. “ _Here?_ Th-the one in the book? The king, the one who came into that Rivendell place with the half-size guys? The one who fought off those scary witch things!”

Legolas grimaced. “Who has been relating this story to you, Kristy?”

She shrugged. “Don’t blame me. I was half-asleep.”

“Yes, he is the very same… He is also my closest friend, and he has not forgotten.” Legolas glanced out the window. “He is here for me.”

“Yeah? To do what?” she asked, before a disturbing thought hit. “And more importantly, blame who? He’s not going to think I kidnapped you or something, will he?”

Legolas rolled his eyes, an annoying habit he watched hundreds of faces do since coming here. “Give the man credit. He is a Dunedain and born to the race of men…” he lifted his chin, “…but I’ve forgiven him that. After all, not everyone can be born elf-kind.”

Kristy scoffed. She awkwardly hit him, but he just blocked it with an arm and pushed her off. The movement jarred the steering wheel to the speed bumps on the side of the road, and with a vengeful smile, she let it. To her surprise, Legolas didn’t grab his seat or curse. He just smiled easily.

“You must take the next right you can find.”

“You’re getting too comfortable here.” She muttered, switching the heater on and moving into the right lane. She remembered when he tried to jump out of the car at that sensation, thinking it was going to ‘explode’.

Too bad.

And just then, she noticed it was no longer rain coming down in curtains… It was snow. Kristy blinked. The temperature gauge read 29o Fahrenheit.

Legolas saw it too. “Snow.” He murmured. The smile vanished from his face and his voice was low and hard. “It is cold. Too cold. But…the forest earth is warmer than your city. He will be sheltered longer there.”

Kristy glanced over. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Take another right.” He said instead of answering. “Hurry, here. Turn right.”

She slowed down and did as he asked, and from then on, she could only follow directions. Legolas was concentrating; she couldn’t break it again.

 

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Kristy stood out in the snow. Icy wind curled her breath and shivered through her limbs. They were in the middle of a vast woods, and she stared at the stiff form of Legolas’ back. All they managed to find so far was an old, deserted cabin. The car was parked in its overgrown, twisting driveway, and right away, Legolas had bolted off into the woods. She had to run to keep up with him.

Now they were at least a quarter mile into the wilderness.

“Anything?” she asked. Shenzie, a gold blur, was streaking through the woods barking. No help...

_And_ no answer.

“Do you even know what you’re looking for, you elf?” she bit in the cold.

It was absolutely _freezing._ The wind was picking up and if they were going back to the cabin before the second wave of storm clouds hit, they’d have to start now. They were rolling and coiling on the north horizon like black, rumbling beasts.

Legolas crept through the pine trees as silent as a deer. A hunter’s fierce gleam was in his eyes. He searched the ground, placed one boot in front of the other in the snow. He remembered this place. Galadriel showed him in the vision, and that was hazy now. Legolas knew he was close because he remembered this place.

“If this is where your friend is,” she broke in again from behind, stomping after him. “Why weren’t you thrown down here too?”

“I was.” Legolas muttered.

“Are you kidding?” Kristy ran to catch up, slipping on the ice once and pushing her hair back in a hood. It didn’t block the blowing snow or the cold. Cloudy sunlight streamed through the splaying leaves and bit her face, making her feel puffy and numb. The air was dipping back and forth, dark to gray light as the storm moved in.

“You were more than a two hour drive from here!” she insisted, “How did you get all the way down there and half way through Minneapolis?”

“Must you speak constantly?” Legolas snapped irritably.

That Dunedain should be here! Why wasn’t he? _It was too cold._ The temperature just kept dropping. He felt it in the air. He felt…he felt snow. Of course it was the snow!

Legolas cursed.

He wouldn’t see the place looking at the ground! The storm created a vacuum and blasted the earth, tore it to shreds. He was looking for a crater, but snow would have filled it in by now. Legolas threw his head back and scanned the treetops. Just as he thought, the needles were scorched above him, stripped from the tree trunks. He was right in the middle of it.

They were here.

“Kristy!” he spun around fast. “Help me search, quickly!”

But he didn’t have to look. Legolas ran forward and just as he leapt down a shallow rise…Shenzie was there. The dog was licking at something…a face. His fingers shook and Legolas dove to his knees. It was Aragorn, his hair dusty and sparkling with new fallen snow. The silly, worthless animal had found him!

“Finally you have earned your keep, dog.” He almost laughed in relief.

Legolas brushed the thin, icy coating from the man and felt for his neck, searching for a pulse. _Nothing._ For an insane instant, Legolas panicked and he thought his friend was dead. The man was stiff and still…so still. But then, fingers numb with fear and cold, Legolas felt the warm, steady heartbeat.

He ran over his arms and legs for anything broken, but of course there was not. The Dunedain could crawl through hell and back and still be as tough and stubborn as ever. It didn’t even surprise Legolas that he’d do something as stupid as this. It could have meant death and decay, or worse! Chasing him through the storms…heading straight-long into the unknown, the abyss.

“Aragorn.” He breathed, grasping the man’s face in relief. He was unconscious, half sheltered under the eave, but alive and strong. It was good to have such a brave fool as a friend. “Come on.”

Legolas almost forgot Kristy as he pulled Aragorn out of the snow and hefted him into his arms. Then, he grunted and staggered back, wide-eyed. _Sweet Eru_ … the man was heavy! Curse this weak human body. Legolas growled.

“Kristine!” he yelled, breaking with the strain of the cold and he shouted huskily, “Where are you? We must get back to the cabin!”

“Uh…Legolas?” came a faint, shaking voice.

Legolas spun around, still managing the weight in his arms. Kristy stood off in the woods, staring at something. All he could see was the shadow of the trees and her back.

“Kristy?” he shouted. “ _Kristy!_ ”

_What was the girl doing?_ Sight-seeing?

With a grunt, Legolas gently set the man down and stalked off through the snow. Damn foolish girl. This was no time for dawdling! Aragorn could wake any minute, confused and enflamed with fever. If he was anything like Legolas, his first instinct would be survival. He’d fight to the last! And who would he be fighting? The closest soul in sight, that’s who, _and_ his dearest friend. None of that would matter until he realized it.

“What in Manwe’s name are you-” and he froze. Legolas almost stumbled in shock at what appeared in the trees. He lost his breath and he gasped.

_No…_ Sweet Eru, no!

“What-what do I do?” Kristy focused on the shining arrow aimed at her throat. The woman holding it could barely manage. She was shaking in the snow, deadly green eyes glazed over.

Kristy looked to Legolas, trembling, but he was transfixed. He didn’t move. She wanted to shout at him to do something, _anything_ to make her put the bow and arrow down…but she didn’t. In another motionless instant, the woman’s eyes flicking breathlessly to Legolas, her knees buckled and she collapsed.

“Legolas!” Kristy dove to the ground and the arrow sung over her head. She felt the feathers slap her hair as it sailed past, and it stung her cheek. Legolas didn’t even move.

Fuming and gasping in shock, Kristy scrambled to the ground and rolled the woman over. The body was limp and she knew she was unconscious. _She could have killed me!_ Kristy was screaming in her head over and over, but Legolas didn’t even look. _This_ was the guard he told her about? _This_ was who came after him?

“Legolas, she’s on fire! We need to get her out of here.” Kristy started scraping the snow off the woman’s arms anyway. Kristy pushed the hair out of her face and she was feeling for a pulse. The thing didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t mean to threaten her…Kristy told herself the same words and it didn’t help any. She was still shaking, and she put her fingers over the woman’s mouth, panting. Kristy half expected the woman to be dead.

“Sh-she’s still breathing, but just barely.” Kristy told him with a shooting glance. “I don’t think this is frostbite. She’s too warm. It’s fever or pneumonia, like you. We have to get her out of here!”

Kristy was babbling in the background but Legolas was still rooted to the earth. No _._ How…how could it be? He couldn’t move. He just stared, mouth gaping open.

“ _Legolas_.” Kristy hissed, spinning around on her heels. “What are you doing?!”

_Tauriel._ The fiery haired elleth of his childhood, with her shining green eyes and porcelain skin. She was right under his eyes, laid in the snow like a fading angel. He hadn’t seen her in…so long. Sixty years, was it? Or fifty? It didn’t matter. She was here. She was here right before his eyes and that-that meant she came for him! Even after all that happened…she came for him too.

And suddenly, Kristy pushed off the ground and grabbed him by the collar. She shook him so hard that his teeth rattled and he snapped out of his dizzy reverie. Kristy was shouting at him.

“Legolas, you idiot!” she let him go. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.” He said quickly, blinking himself out of it. _Focus._ “Nothing. Yes, you’re-you’re right. We must get them out of here.”

“Help me get her up.” Kristy pulled the woman out of the snow, and with Legolas heaving her limp body the rest of the way, got her into his arms.

Legolas lost his breath. _She was lighter than he remembered…_ Oh, so tiny. Kristy was strong; she wouldn’t drop her. But he didn’t let go. She was even smaller than Kristy. How many times did he let that fool him? She was a fighter; oh how she could fight! And her temper, he remembered it. It was like starlight and fire. She would banter with him, fight with the best of the guard…She always knew what to say. She always knew how to make him feel better. How could the elleth be here, right under his fingers, so close again? After all this time? She -

“- _Legolas_!” Kristy shattered his thoughts one more time. She was fairly screaming at him.

“Yes.” Legolas shook his head. _Focus._ “I-I know. We have to go. Hurry!” And he pointed at her fiercely. “If you let go of her even once, Kristine, I… I’ll-”

“-Never mind that.”

Legolas grimaced and spun around. Kristy wouldn’t drop her. If she did he… he didn’t want to think about it.

Wind picked up and blew through the pines, buffeting the trees back and forth. The pale sun dropped behind the stormclouds, leaving him cold and in a daze. They made it to the isolated cabin just as they hit. It was a blizzard of snow and ice.

 

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**A/N: Thanks for reading, and reviewing if you have the time. :)) Have a wonderful day.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hello readers! I hope you had a wonderful weekend. Fun tidbit… the next morning after Halloween, the local Wal-mart grocery store was playing Christmas music. Guess it’s that time of year!**

. . .

_You were given life; it is your duty to find something beautiful in it, no matter how small. – Elizabeth Gilbert_

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Monsters in the Night

. . .

“So… do you think she’ll be alright?”

Kristy waited for an answer.

The elf sat on the edge of a bed, shrouded in dim light and shadow. Kristy was in the doorway, fidgeting nervously with the threshold.

“Legolas?” she pressed softer.

… Still no answer.

Legolas swathed Tauriel in warm sheets, red hair spilling over the satin pillows. He was at the bedside, stroking her hand in his. It was so tiny, so white and smooth. He couldn’t eat; he couldn’t sleep. Aragorn’s pulse was steady and his temperature was fine. But Tauriel… _why?_ Why did the flames lap at her skin? Why did she fight the gap between life and death so fiercely?

Kristy carried a small plate of food into the room. A depression in the mattress and a tangent smell wafted to his nose…warm meat and vegetable soup.

“Please Legolas,” she said softly, “…Can you just eat something? You haven’t had anything all day and all night. You’ll start getting weak, or-or faint, or something.”

Legolas barely registered the words; he just turned away. _Why try?_

All she could do is set the bowl on the bedside table. Utterly hopeless.

Slowly, Kristy turned to leave.

The kitchen joined the living room in one open space, inside the cabin. She shuffled over the thick carpet and looked around; it was bigger on the inside than out. Polished wood cupboards lined the dark kitchen and the walls, meticulously clean behind the raggedy, rustic outside. All the modern conveniences of the city were there: lights, refrigerator, washing machine… _if_ the power were on.

Kristy collapsed and curled up in the black leather cushions. Flames snapped and burned under the massive mantle, throwing faint firelight through the whole room. Two couches shaped in an L faced the fire, one’s back to the kitchen tile.

_Why did this storm have to hit?_

Kristy looked up and glared out the windows. Whirling snow wailed and buffeted the little cabin until it creaked and groaned. Black clouds scratched across the sky. At least the doors were unlocked when they arrived, and they’d managed to get the two strangers inside. It was a full day ago.

“Aragorn…” Kristy muttered to herself, looking over with a sigh. What a name. What a man! He was still asleep on the sofa, firelight dancing at the shadows on his unshaved face. Snow battered the walls in icy flakes, cold and bitter wind whistling through the pines. She listened to it nonstop, worrying for Legolas and the two strangers. She couldn't sleep either, knowing he was awake and distressed. Legolas just refused to enlighten her as to who the woman was.

It was frustrating, maddening. The man was stubborn, and he’d dragged her all the way up here without a word more than that pathetic explanation in the car!

And suddenly, something happened: …a shifting on the couch, a very faint groan…

“Aragorn?” Kristy whispered, suddenly wary. She focused in the dark.

He definitely was moving.

“Aragorn…” Kristy sat up, suddenly tense. “Oh really, please, can you not do that right now? Just keep sleeping!”

He wasn’t paying attention. _God, what would he do?_ Wake up screaming? Demand answers and try to run?

“Ah…uh, Legolas!” she looked desperately from the moving lump of blanket to the bedroom down the hall. Legolas was in there with _Tauriel_ still… They’d been in there for hours. He refused to leave. “Legolas!” she called louder. “Legolas, something’s happening!”

No answer.

“Legolas, get _out_ here!”

“What is it?” he appeared, blonde hair rumpled like he’d been running his hands through it, and he stalked out of the room impatiently. “What in-”

“- Aragorn!” Kristy pointed vigorously. He was shifting and a quiet groan broke from the man’s lips.

Instantly, Legolas stopped, staring at the rousing man, before rushing over. It was too soon! He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Legolas got down on his knees, carefully placing his hands on Aragorn’s arms in case he woke up thrashing. He remembered what it was like to wake on fire, shudder with violent chills and have no memory, no recollection of anything…the past, the future!

He didn’t want that for his friend.

“Estel…” Legolas whispered, searching his closed eyes. “Estel, can you hear me?”

And slowly, as if in response… Aragorn’s eyes flickered open. His pupils widened in the faint light, focused on the blur of pale silver hovering above him.

Legolas didn’t move, afraid of frightening him.

“Aragorn…?”

And suddenly the man grabbed Legolas by the clothes and yanked him down, pulling himself to his feet in the process. Legolas gasped. Aragorn’s eyes flashed steely blue. It was like flames lapped in their depths and Legolas stared straight into them.

“Aragorn! Y-your name is Aragorn.” Legolas rattled off frenziedly, frozen in his grip. “You were raised by elves and they call you Estel! I am Legolas, your friend. I will not fight you and I will not hurt you. I am your friend, I swear and-”

And suddenly, to his shock, Aragorn’s face slowly burst into a joyful grin and he pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“What are you _talking_ about, fool of an elf?” Estel clasped his arms and held onto his shoulders. Legolas blinked, aghast. He forgot… Estel was a hugger. “We’ve searched everywhere for you. I thought you were lost to me, my friend. I’ve found you at last!” he laughed.

“Aragorn…you-you remember me?” Legolas gasped.

“Of course I remember you.”

Kristy looked between them, confused. She caught a word here and there, but her Westron was poor. Aragorn wasn’t fighting? _Why?_ And why wasn’t he sicker, like Legolas and Tauriel?

Estel stepped back from Legolas, staggering only once, and he looked around. His vision levelled out and he felt blood rush into his legs. Cloudy sunlight poured through the windows, and snow was coming down in blowing curtains. Lorien _,_ this certainly wasn’t.

“What happened?” he asked quickly, “What place is this?”

“We are in a place called Earth.” Legolas explained, still keeping a steadying hand on the man’s arm. “Trust me, mellon nín,” he said carefully, offering support, “it is not a place for the faint of heart. I am glad you are here.”

“Earth?” Aragorn squinted. “…In _Arda_? I’ve never heard of such a place.”

Legolas shook his head, laughing wryly. “Indeed you have not. There _is_ no such place in Arda! The portal has taken you to me, but nowhere that we are familiar. I believe it to be a different world entirely, perhaps a different time.”

Slowly, Aragorn nodded, as if processing the information gradually. “Time…” he murmured. His steel gray eyes took in everything with a single glance… machines, furniture of leather and black metal, polished wood table that held a ticking device and- …and a woman.

“Who is that?” He muttered quietly, instantly curious.

Legolas didn’t move, confused, before spinning around. “Ah! Ah… this is Kristine. She aided me in habilitating myself to this world.”

“Is that not a strong word, my friend? Habilitating?”

“Two and a half months seems a long while when you are in a world as strange and terrible as this.” he shrugged.

“ _Two_ and a half months?” Aragorn stepped back, agape. “You have been here… that long?”

“Did you not know?”

“No!” Estel took an arm and gripped Legolas’ shoulders, “My friend…I am so sorry. But you must understand. It has been barely a fortnight since you left us.”

Legolas stiffened. “A fortnight… that is all?” and then, his muscles slowly grew untaught. He considered that revelation. “Well, I am not sure if it is a good or bad thing. I have missed you terribly, mellon nín, but this…this means I have not missed as much as I thought.”

“Nay, we still take rest in the woods of Lorien.” Aragorn shifted on his feet, keeping himself steady, “We have another fortnight still until we planned to leave.”

Legolas nodded. “And of Mithrandir… is he…?”

At the mention of the old wizard’s name, Aragorn’s face paled. “I…I fear it is so. He is indeed lost to us.”

… And then, a quiet throat cleared. It dragged both their minds from the sinking, dark memories and they looked up. Kristy shuffled to peer past Legolas’ shoulder, and she kept her hands together, fidgeting anxiously. Aragorn’s cool gray eyes met hers and she froze.

“Um, can-can somebody tell me what’s going on?” she asked quickly. “And why ‘Aragorn’ doesn’t seem to have any trouble…oh, I don’t know… _breathing_?”

Legolas smiled warmly. “Ah, my friend, manners.” He said and glanced to Aragorn. “I should warn you, she does know some Westron.”

Estel cast his eyes sidelong. “I see.” And he switched to fluent Sindarin. “I shall watch what I say then.”

“Hi! I’m Kris.” Kristy grinned breathlessly. She stuck out a hand as he approached, before Estel reached to take it.

“… She does not appreciate a kiss there.” Legolas interjected.

“Aragorn…son of Arathorn.” He introduced himself, deciding to hold her fingers in a firm, gentle grasp instead. There was no point hiding his identity. She obviously knew what it was already. “I thank you for the care of my friend in his time here.”

Legolas relayed the message and obviously, the statement surprised her. She blinked, glancing between them. “Oh, it-it was nothing. That’s fine.”

“She wears strange clothes.” Estel stared straight into her eyes and refrained from looking her up and down, not wishing to make her uncomfortable. But he glanced to Legolas. “Does she always…?”

“Always.”

“Is her hair always that short?”

“Always.”

Legolas looked over at Kristy then, Tauriel momentarily slipping from his mind, and the sudden nervousness flaring in her eyes made him smile again. He reached up and gently draped an arm across her shoulders. The fidgeting was making her body tremble under him and Legolas felt it. He almost asked her what was wrong…But then he looked from the tall, broad Dunedain with his intense gray eyes, and he thought better of it. Instead, he rubbed Kristy’s shoulder.

“Don’t be nervous.” He whispered close to her hair, feeling her shiver harder into it, before looking up to Aragorn. He could barely keep the smile from tugging at his lips. “I found you brought my blades and bow.”

“That was the captain’s doing.” Aragorn glanced around, as if suddenly remembering. “And where is she? …Tauriel?”

Legolas felt the grin fade from his face… Almost instantly, Kristy stilled against him and she looked up. He kept his face emotionless, like a mask, and he focused on avoiding her eyes as they flickered over his face.

“Sleeping,” he managed to say quietly, dropping his arm from her shoulders, “… in there.”

Before either of them quite knew what happened, Estel had warily taken off in that direction and Legolas quickly went after. Kristy watched them go a moment, before frowning and following after. Legolas’ entire face had went pale at the mention of her name… It was like he couldn’t let the woman out of his sight for more than a minute at a time. _What’d he think was going to happen?_ She’d pick up and vanish into thin air?

It was ridiculous.                                                                                      

“Wait, please Legolas,” Aragorn murmured, reaching the doorway. He touched a hand to his friend’s arm. The Dunedain was still unsteady on his feet, but he didn’t miss the worrying look Legolas shot.

“Let me see her alone. Worry not. I will do what I can for her.”

For an instant, Legolas looked like he was going to say something sharp. Kristy stared at him wide-eyed from behind, waiting for something to happen. She could almost see the alarm flaring in his eyes; she knew that look. Legolas didn’t want to leave her.

But Estel was a healer. Kristy remembered that much. Maybe he could help.

“Come on, Legs.” She brushed his hand with the back of her fingers, a tentative touch. “You should eat something. Let her be.”

“But-”

“I will tell you the moment her condition changes.” He said quickly. “…if it be.”

“I…” Legolas looked from the shadowed bed and Aragorn’s tired, wary eyes. He couldn’t think of a reason to protest. Estel was a healer; he was not. “…Very well.” He muttered reluctantly, before shifting back, letting Aragorn in.

Before Legolas could even settle in the living room, Kristy was beside him on the couch. She thrust a warm bowl of steaming soup close to his lap, and Legolas just groaned. “Not now.”

“Please…?” she whispered.

He ignored her, staring at the closed door where she lay behind. _He couldn’t see her._ He couldn’t feel her _feä_. How did he know if she was alright? It was a small relief out here, true, in the clear air, without seeing her sweating, panting body helpless under the sheets… It hurt him to see it.

“Legolas?”

Finally, his platinum blue eyes sank over to hers. Kristy reached up and was gently rubbing his shoulder. “I am fine.” He said quietly.

And then, the woman’s voice came a little stronger. Interesting. She was frustrated. Legolas glanced over.

“Oh sure…right, if ‘fine’ entails sitting up all night worrying over that bed and refusing to sleep.”

Legolas was about to counter that with a quick retort, something quick and meaningful: such as mentioning that he was doing more to help than she was. But then, he decided against it.

So Legolas let out a sigh, dropping his head down close to his knees…before blinking in surprise. Kristy had food, warm food. _Where did she get that?_ They brought hardly any food with them.

“What is that?”

“Oh, this?” She glanced down and up, following his eyes. “The people who lived here were really well stocked.” She explained. “The power’s out, you know. But-but the gas is still on. I warmed it up with the stove.” Kristy shuffled closer, wedging the plate of food into Legolas’ lap. The tenseness was faded a little and she was sitting close to him again. “And the freezer power is out; the food would spoil. I’ve got it outside under the snow to keep it frozen. So that’s not stealing, right?”

Legolas almost smiled a little, but not quite. “You certainly are a resourceful little one, Kristy.”

And then… the words barely out of his mouth, flicking his eyes to her upturned face, she looked at him. Her eyes were a faint green in the dim light, Legolas found as he stared into them. There was a strange expression there…something like hope, curiosity or… or possibly shyness. She looked down immediately.

“Thanks.”

 _… And strange._ He secretly mused. Her hair fell down around her face and hid her from him.

It seemed forever that Aragorn was in there with her, and when he finally emerged…he couldn’t tell Legolas anything he didn’t already know. It shocked him that the two were now much more human than they used to be, disturbed him into silence for the rest of the night.

. . .

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 _Whispers in the dark_ …

Kristy didn’t move, snuggled tight in a blanket with her eyes shut tight. She was curled up in a lazy boy; Aragorn had finally convinced Legolas he needed to rest… He was asleep in the den, Aragorn on the couch in the living room. Kristy promised to stay with Tauriel instead.

…And suddenly, she blinked, opening her eyes a crack.

The windows were dark and so was everything else. The wind didn’t blast the walls; the snow had finally stopped. In fact… everything had stopped. Kristy blinked. Eerily so.

Waving limbs crawled through the window panes. _What woke her up?_ Tauriel was in the bed nearby, but it couldn’t be her.

And then… a long, gentle _scrape_ sound made her heart flip. Her fingers clenched. Kristy’s throat tightened. She felt every single nerve flare to life and she shrunk down in the blanket, peering out. _It was so dark in here._ But the moon shone bright outside. So bright the snow was alive and glowing silver.

_Scratch…_

She jumped, but not so much at the sound. A flash of shadow leapt past the window and disappeared. Her heart slammed in her ribs, beating thunderously. _What was that?_

Another whisper, like prying fingers dug quietly under the windowpane. She couldn’t see. It was too dark. Kristy sat up, pupils dilating in the shadows as she peered closer.

 _I’m overreacting…_ It’s just a branch tapping the window. _Just a branch?_

But the panicking, fearful side that was much too frightened of small, scuttling sounds in the dark for _far_ too many years was coming to life. The reasonable, adult side was screaming for nothing. Episodes of horror movies, the X-Files, and every frightening thing she’d ever seen flashed through her mind and she clamped a hand on her heartbeat.

 _It’s nothing._ It’s gotta be nothing.

Kristy reached for her coat on the floor, eyes glued to the window and she slipped it over her razorback. The blanket fell away and she inched closer, tentatively. _There were animals in these woods._ It was a deer, or a raccoon, or-or…

The garage came into view and another hunched shadow leapt over the forest floor for an instant… It disappeared, and there were only trees.

 _Just a deer._ Kristy crept to the window, pressing a hand to the cold, clear glass and her breath fogged the window. _Just a deer._ She looked from one shadow to the next. A draft came from the window and made her shiver. She scanned the treetops, heartbeat beginning to settle in relief as not even a whisper of sound or movement broke the quiet. She sighed, dropping her palm from the glass, about to turn away before…

A grasping hand slammed into the glass.

Kristy gasped and leapt back with a scream. The thing was grasping and pulling on the locked window with a strangled cry, face smashed in the window and clawing desperately to get inside.

“Ah!”

Kristy spun around and hit the bedpost, scrambling blind for the door before, with a gasp and a suffocated cry, it flew open and she dashed into faint light. She could still hear the clawing nails in her head and she slipped on the carpet, before slamming into the floor and dashing into the den.

Warm firelight flickered through the room. She just caught a glimpse of him sprawled on the couch, sleeping peacefully…

In a spasm of terror, she didn’t hesitate running full speed and slamming into his chest, landing on the couch and shaking him awake. Legolas let out a yelp and jolted awake, scrambling back and grabbing the couch as she clambered over him.

“Legolas! Legolas, th-there’s a…” she gasped, spluttering for the words. “There’s a _monster_ outside! It’s outside the window!”

“What?!” He grimaced, glancing down and struggling in vain to pull her fingers out of his shirt, before looking up and gasping. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“There’s a monster!” she tried to shout, but it came out a choked whisper. She pointed madly. “It’s outside my _window_!”

At that moment, Aragorn appeared in the doorway, dark hair disheveled. He had a knife and a sword in his grip. “What is it? What happened, Legolas?”

“I do not know.” Legolas pried her off and extricated himself from the blanket, before grimacing and stumbling from the couch. He answered in English and spat the words out again in Sindarin. “She says there is a ‘monster’ outside the cabin _._ ”

“It’s there. I saw it.” Kristy insisted, still shaking. She grabbed his arm and pointed wildly. “It had f-flinching yellow eyes and lots of fingers. It’s trying to get inside, I tell you!”

Aragorn sighed heavily and Legolas turned, gripping her shoulders, forcing her to look up in the process. Kristy did, feeling the panic reduce to a dull, pounding fear with the look in his eyes. She was still breathing hard though, and Aragorn belted the sword around his waist. She didn’t like that look.

He didn’t believe her!

“We will go look.” Legolas murmured in that infuriatingly calming voice of his. “…calm down. You will hurt something.”

Kristy sizzled in anger. “It’s _there_ I tell you!” She shook his hands off and pointed wildly, before with a sudden surge of bravery, she gripped her fists and stomped. “And if you don’t find it, I-I’m going to go _shoot_ it with that gun I found!”

“You are not going to shoot anything.” He hissed.

“It is in all probability a woodland animal.” Aragorn broke in, striding across the room, and Legolas retrieved his boots from the corner.

“A deer or possibly a wolf.” He agreed, repeating the message.

“Do woodland animals claw at the window?” Kristy shot back. “ _Bambi_ doesn’t have pointy teeth!” she nearly spluttered, before shaking and forcing the buttons up the side of her coat closed. “I know what a _woodland_ animal looks like… And it wasn’t, I tell you.”

Legolas sighed. Kristy couldn’t help feeling anger as he pulled a suede tunic over his head and looked up, stooping for the weapons Aragorn brought from the floor. He didn’t believe her!

“I will look… All right? Will you trust Estel _and_ I?”

Kristy fumed and glared at the patronizing tone, but Aragorn’s voice was quiet, like a sturdy stone. It rose up out of the turmoil like a calming sea. He spoke up and suddenly, she felt an embarrassed flush rise in her cheeks. He was so composed! _Why’d she have to lose it?_ Why hadn’t she just walked in here, touched Legolas awake, and asked him to go check it out?

“There are tracks outside the window.” Estel said solemnly, lifting his chin. And then Legolas glanced over and said something else in quick Sindarin. Aragorn nodded stiffly.

“What?” Kristy looked between them. “W-what did he just say?”

Legolas’ eyes flashed and there was alarm on his face.

“Never mind.”

Legolas was strapping on his weapons and he didn’t answer right away. He just stalked to the window, took one look, and then spun around. He pointed at Kristy with one finger.

“Stay here… Do not come out.”

She felt her eyes widen exponentially. But even though she appreciated they were taking her seriously, a flash of fear coursed through her belly. If it wasn’t a wolf and it wasn’t Bambi… _What was it?_ She hadn’t thought that far yet!

Aragorn strode out of the room and Legolas swept after him, bow in hand and gleaming white blades strapped to his back. He disappeared from sight…and Kristy ran after him.

“Legolas, what about me?” she grabbed him by the back and held onto his knives. “What do I do? I want to help!”

“You may help by remaining here. Stay with Tauriel!”

 _Stay with Tauriel?_ Kristy almost spluttered in protest, but nothing came out. Was that a joke?! By the time the angry, fearful splotches left her vision, they were both gone. The door swung shut with a _slam_ and she stood staring.

 _Stay with Tauriel._ Fine. Kristy hurried to the mantle and dug out the pistol she’d found there earlier. She pulled on some low, leather boots and jeans with shaking hands.

“Take the north side.” Estel leapt down the porch steps, blade in hand and Legolas nodded.

“Aragorn, wait!” Legolas reached out. “What are they?”

“Orch.”

. . .

**A/N: Thank you for reading! This last week has been absolutely crazy and I haven’t had time to write, so sorry for the short chapter. I hope you can expect another update in the next few days though, if all goes as planned! Have a wonderful day, and I hope you enjoyed it. :))**

 

 

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Early update, just like I promised! Stayed up all night writing it because I wanted to wait for the polls to come in.**

 

. . .

_We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. –Oscar Wilde_

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Orc in the Woods

. . .

Moonlight flashed and stabbed through the pines like daggers. Legolas ran full speed. His feet were as fleet and silent as a wolf. The black night and the snow glowed white, hazy and glowing. This was where he belonged! Running through the woods, bow in hand, wind in his hair…

Aragorn crunched through the snow, blade shielding his eyes. He heard their foul whisperings spitting in the dark...but he couldn’t see. He couldn’t make them out! Why was it so dark? The moon shone bright; why were his eyes so dull? Legolas was running a perimeter of the property, trying to get an approximate on their numbers. He couldn’t hear the elf… _man’s,_ he corrected…footsteps anymore.

Kristy fumbled with a box of bullets, loaded the pistol in her shaking hands, and jammed the rest in her pocket. Legolas said to guard Tauriel. That meant fighting whatever was out there. Right?

She didn’t bother keeping the safety off. The weight of the gun felt good in her hands. It made her feel powerful. Her trembling fingers stilled and a surge of energy raced through her limbs. She strode to the door, cracked it open, and peered out.

A tiny gas porchlight hung overhead. All was quiet. The clawing woods past the yard threw long, scratching shadows waving slowly over the house. She felt every one, cold on her face as she peered into the barring line of darkness.

It moved.

Kristy blinked. _What was that?_

She latched the door shut tight and moved out onto the landing, butt of the gun on her shoulder, and she sidestepped her way to the stoop. Porch rails crept over her legs. She kept her fingers off of the trigger, glancing to it constantly to make sure of it.

… And suddenly, just as she jumped off the bottom step and looked around, a black hunched figure scrambled around the side of the house and flew through the snow straight toward the driveway. Kristy gasped. White flakes exploded behind the kicking legs and it ran desperately.

“Legolas!” she shouted.

A figure, definitely human leapt off the garage roof and crashed into a snowdrift. Kristy spun around. That was Aragorn. He rolled and absorbed the impact, snow flying, before chasing after the monster with a fierce cry. She just stared, wide-eyed. A guttural scream pierced the dark an instant later.

“Aragorn, what the hell _are_ they?” she shouted.

Crashing blades echoed from the woods. Estel yelled something at her, but she didn’t understand. It sounded like ‘goblet’.

“ _Aragorn!_ ” she insisted, stamping her boot.

The only answer was a glimpse of silver bolting from the woods and Legolas ran full speed… A pack of black limbs and teeth were after him, waving beaten blades.

But then, to Kristy’s shock, he reached open ground and spun around. His whole body tensed and he threw his legs apart, bracing himself. He was outside the porchlight though and she saw flashing blades, arms flying. He ducked and spun on one leg, driving his knife through a black knee, before spinning around and crossing blades through throat. Steel flashed and throaty cries stained the white snow red. It made her feel sick. An explosion of ice landed the last in a snow bank and Legolas jumped up again, spluttering.

“Legolas!” she exclaimed, staring at his silhouette in a new perspective… respect, she thought, or maybe fear. He was already running again. “What are they? Why are they here?”

He sidestepped and redirected his run towards the woman. As he skidded into the porchlight though, gusts of vapor panted from his mouth and she saw the blades in his bruised knuckles. They gleamed and red stains dripped from the razor edges. They were…sharp.

“Goblins.” He spat. Aragorn shouted something at him then, and he spun around, scanning the trees. “Twenty! I -” and then he shook his head, repeating it in Westron.

“Goblins?” she interrupted, unconsciously grabbing the gun in her hands tighter. “Like _real…_ real goblins? Real goblins?”

Legolas flashed sharp blue eyes over his shoulder and they pierced like arrows. “ _Why_ are you out here? I told you to stay inside and protect Tauriel!”

“She’s plenty safe in there. I made sure of it.” She shot back. “Quit worrying about _her_ all the time and look around, for once! This can’t be happening. Don’t you see? What are they attacking _us_ for?”

“I see perfectly, Kristine.” He hissed, before striding forward through the snow. Kristy scrambled back a step, suddenly terrified of the fierce, killer look in his eyes. That wasn’t Legolas. Or maybe it was…? Maybe this was just a side of him that she’d never seen before. The side that beat up four men in an alley. “They are attacking because they seek to exterminate anything different than themselves.”

“But it doesn’t make sense! They’re dying and they’re not running.” She insisted. Aragorn was taking on three more in her peripheral vision. He was winning, too.

“Get inside, Kristy.” he shouted. “I have no time for this.”

The woman gasped, fuming, but she refused to move. Legolas was already turning away though. He wasn’t listening. _Again._ Well she sure as hell wasn’t going to go hide under the bed! She was-she was going to- Oh, damn that elf.

Legolas heard the sound a moment before he saw it. He was looking back, about to order her inside again. But he didn’t make it. His eyes went wide. _Run._ Why didn’t she run? Didn’t she see it?

And suddenly, Legolas was throwing a blade over his head, blocking off an attack. He was boxed in; he couldn’t move.

“Kristy!” he barked, hoarse.

Kris looked up at the sound. The first thing she saw was a surge of fear in his wide blue eyes. She saw it in the dark and it stunned her. That look was grossly out of place on Legolas’ face.

“Get down!” he shouted desperately. His body moved in a writhing dance to twist in and under the beaten, battered blades coming at him. He didn’t have to look.

And suddenly, she spun around and scrambled back, looking up to where he did. She threw her hands up instinctively and a black, scrambling shape careened down the roof head-first. It was coming so fast! It scrambled down the roof straight for her, blinking furiously and spilling drool.

Kristy almost froze. A thousand memories flashed through her head. She remembered a mask, a smudged stocking-face, dark and a gunshot. She remembered that feeling of frozen terror, unable to move. Knowing you have to move and you just can’t…

But that’s not what happened this time.

Kristy tripped, before slamming on her back and struggling up again. She could see the gleaming yellow eyes and black nails clambering over the shingles. It was jumping! And suddenly, a sharp gunshot kicked her back a step. She almost fell, but not quite. She braced herself and a terrible scream pierced the air. The goblin tumbled head-over-heels and landed with a _crunch_ in the snow.

In the same moment, Legolas yanked his blade out of the last of the orc pack. Aragorn looked up at the explosion. Blood slicked his blade red.

With a gasp, Kristy stumbled back, staring at the thing sprawled in the trampled snow… _A goblin._ What else could you call that thing? The sinewy arms spread out in the snow, bald gray body in the porchlight. A long, beaten blade stuck in the snow by long, flat fingers.

Legolas and Aragorn came up behind, staring at the woman and the barrel in her hands. It was still smoking…

“Th-that’s… a _goblin._ ” Kristy said stupidly, wide-eyed.

“Yes.”

“Hah!” she looked up, a numb shock slowly settling through ice. She grinned shakily and laughed. “And it’s _dead_. I-I killed it!”

“…Yes.” Legolas muttered reluctantly, before sharing a look with Estel. “I told you.”

“…a different place.” Aragorn agreed.

“Come on! They are still coming in from the east.” He and Estel took off into the woods. He refused to see if Kristy followed after. If Tauriel was safe, and she had that…weapon with her, it was her business if she wanted to be a fool.

They ran into another pack just farther into the woods. Kristy chased after them as fast as possible in the trampled snow. Black shapes were leaping through the trees. She threw her head up and saw them jump from limb to limb, slipping and scrambling to upper branches. They were retreating!

Or so she thought.

They broke into a glade where the trees were lighter, not far from the cabin. Legolas instantly skidded to a halt and Kristy almost slammed into him. Aragorn ran to a stop ahead, and she stumbled, whipping her head around.

“W-what’s the matter?”

Legolas back-stepped, staring wide-eyed into the black night. “ _That…_ is the matter.” He said breathlessly, and then Kristy looked around him, just enough to see. A black roar shook the air and she staggered back.

_Bam._

A crash of a club on tree trunk smashed through the woods and an explosion burst from the earth in snowy white droplets.

“W-what’s _that_?” She pointed in disbelief.

“A troll.” Legolas growled in answer, before pushing her back. “Stay behind me!”

Kristy didn’t even protest. What the hell? It was _huge_! And it was stomping straight towards the cabin.

With a fierce battle cry, Aragorn ran forward and blocked a blow from the massive club. It sent him flying backward, but he absorbed the hit and rolled. Legolas was right after him, pulling the bow from his back. Kristy couldn’t even see the arrows he let go until they were flashing and spinning through the night. Legolas was all grace and fury. If she wasn’t so fixed on running full-tilt out of the troll’s way, she could have just watched him.

“Aragorn, th-they’re still in the trees!” Kristy shouted. She knew Legolas already saw them; he was shooting at them. But the man was still vigorously attacking the overgrown orc.

“Get inside the house!” Legolas hissed back. “He _sees_ them.”

“I will not.” She shot back.

Legolas didn’t have time to fight over it. “Then make that weapon of yours useful!”

The first time Kristy shot the pistil, the goblins froze where they clung to the branches. She spun around behind a broken stump, hiding from the beast. Over the cries of the troll, she could hear their wild, frenzied snorts and whisperings.

She threw both fists into the air and aimed. Another gunshot brought down a screaming orc until it landed flailing in the snow. She was so intent, heart pounding in her ears, swiveling back and forth through the dark branches, she didn’t even notice the flinching black eyes as they turned. The troll snuffled the frigid air, searching blind for the gunshots.

“Kristy!”

No answer. Just another goblin falling from the trees and Legolas pulled his arrow from the bloody ribcage in the dirt. He was nearly out, and he was cut off from her. He couldn’t move.

“Damn it, Kristy! _Answer_ me.”

Aragorn slammed into a trunk and the troll’s back was between him and the girl. Just then, a goblin dropped from the trees and Legolas –between dodging knives and flying entrails- saw it knock the gun out of her hands. Just as it happened, the troll reached out a massive hand and grabbed her ankle. Aragorn’s blade slashed through the fleshy tendon in its heel but not deep enough.

“Kristy!” he shouted hoarsely.

Legolas spun around. He heard her scream and she was upside down. The cry stabbed him like a blade; he couldn’t move. _She was going to die._ Why didn’t she listen? _Why_ didn’t she stay inside? His blue eyes flew up in alarm.

But the troll didn’t crush her, it didn’t throw or shake her…it just stared, grabbing at her as if to find the weapon she had. But Legolas saw it in the snow. He was too far away to get it. His quiver was out of arrows.

“I will get it!” Aragorn shouted. “Catch her!”

Estel fought his way through the snow and squealing goblins. They were screaming in a frenzy and cheering the troll on. But Aragorn didn’t have time to figure out how the metal thing worked. He looked up and shouted. “Kristine!”

She was still writhing in the troll’s fingers. The monster stumbled through the woods, batting away trees and _yrch_ in the way with a massive, muscly scarred arm. Aragorn threw the gun at her and Legolas almost thought she wouldn’t catch it. She wouldn’t catch it...

She wouldn’t fascinate the monster long enough! It would kill her. She’d die and it would be all his fault!

But her fumbling fingers grabbed onto the barrel, still fighting upside down. Just as Legolas looked up, she forced her arm up and fired blind. More screams.

“Catch her!”

Legolas jammed his knife in the sheathe on his back and dove into a run. The troll threw her and the monster’s head was partially gone; Kristy was plummeting. He’d catch her. He wouldn’t let her snap and break, smash into the ice.

And suddenly he felt impact.

Kristy’s face slammed into his chest. Snow hit his back so hard Legolas grunted in surprise. The next thing he knew, he was staring straight up at the sky, gasping. Kristy was crumpled face down on his chest…and the moment Legolas realized it, he also realized she was shaking.

“Kristy…” he forced out, making his lungs work. In and out. Up… down. He was soaking wet and freezing cold, buried in snow. The goblins saw the troll crashing to the forest floor and they were retreating, hooting and screaming. Aragorn didn’t bother chasing after them.

Nothing.

Panting, Legolas’ fingers touched her hair, spreading his hands around her ribs. She was shaking so hard and her heart pounded so furiously, he felt it through the heat of her clothes. Her coat was gone. Kristy was trying to breathe and couldn’t; she coughed violently and choked.

“Kristy, talk to me.” He insisted, lifting up his head.

She gulped and swallowed once more, before dragging her head up, bracing her arms on his chest. “… I-I-I’m okay. I’m fine.” Kristy lifted her eyes, still coughing deep down in her chest, before shakily peering up at him. Legolas winced. Her face was scraped and bleeding. She looked terrified and brave…but soaking wet. Legolas almost smiled. “Thanks f-for not letting me crash.”

“Anytime.” He whispered, slowly lifting his knees so he felt her settle between them, sink down on him closer. She was so cold. He could feel her body crushing him and warming him at the same time. She looked over his wet face. His heart beat against her hand. _Why did she not get off him?_ Why didn’t he make her?

“I-is it dead?” she whispered. And suddenly, the trance was broken.

“Yes. Come on.” Legolas forced himself to focus. They weren’t sitting out in the snow all night!

Aragorn staggered sideways and strode over, before dragging his fallen sword out of the snow. “The goblins will not stay frightened long.” he warned.

Kristy let Legolas up out of the drift and he shook himself off. Blood rushed from her head instantly and she staggered back, dizzy. Kris wasn’t going to make the damn elf catch her again, though. She forced herself to stay upright. Legolas was hitting the snow off himself and batting it from her shoulders.

“Come!” Aragorn grabbed the woman’s arm and Kris stumbled. He looked around, scanning the moonlit trees, before dragging her back down the sharp wooded slope after him with Legolas a step behind. “There is no time. This place will be flooded with _yrch_ before the moon wanes.”

“We cannot leave!” Legolas protested. “What of Tauriel?”

“We take her with us.”

And so it was just a half-mile before they skipped up a rise and the cabin appeared, nestled between hilly pines. Estel slowed his furious pace, clamping his unshaved jaw in a determined line. Legolas had a bow on his back again. The three were just above the homestead and Kristy looked up... His eyes were ice blue. She didn’t know what it was. _Was he afraid?_ He was staring at the cabin like a cat after an angry mouse. Kris realized it was just a split instant that he stood poised, coiled like a spring.

“Legolas…what is it?” she panted.

He didn’t move. His fingers turned cold. _Tauriel._ “… Did you leave the door open?” he asked quietly.

Nothing happened. …And then her heart dropped into her stomach. “No.”

“Legolas!”

The elf bolted down the slope, exploding snow behind him. Estel curled his fingers into fists, before taking off after him. Kristy almost cried, but nothing came out. _She didn’t forget it open._ She couldn’t have!

Tauriel’s window…there was movement. Legolas ran full-speed; he didn’t even hesitate. Pulling the blade off his back, he shielded his face and leapt through the glass. It was already cracked from the earthquakes and it shattered on impact. Legolas’ boots hit the floor and a shocked hiss came from the corner.

“Get away from her!” He spat viciously.

The goblin looked up with fierce, yellow eyes in the dark.

Legolas didn’t wait. He jumped on the bed where Tauriel was stirring awake, jumped over it, and thrust his knife through the goblin’s throat. Black blood choked and spilled from its pointed teeth, slowly, and then the putrid eyes rolled back in his head and it collapsed.

“Tauriel…” he whispered, dropping the blade. His fists were stained with gore, cold and bloody, but he caught her face in his hands. She wasn’t hurt; she was just jarred awake. “Can you hear me?”

“W-where is this?” she hissed, blinking furiously. Sweat still clung to her face, fever and fear. But she was awake. “What happened?”

“Your name is Tauriel…” he panted, collapsing down beside her. He stroked her face gently, felt her shaking in his arms and her fiery, rumpled hair in his fingers, “…my precious, dear Tauriel. You are safe; do not fear. I know you don’t understand yet, but do not fear and do _not_ fight.”

She shook her head, looking around the darkness wildly. Tauriel’s mouth clamped tight and her eyes flashed like hot green fire. She was afraid.

“Your memory will return, I swear it. It is just…too much, too much for you to take. Not now, right away. You- ” and then he cut off, catching his breath, searching her face. She was unconscious again. Her eyes slit closed and she went limp in his arms. _Tauriel…_ sweet Tauriel, nearly killed because of- because of-

“… Legolas?” came a shrinking voice.

“You fool.” He growled.

Aragorn stepped slowly into the room behind Kristy. The ranger kept back, noting the way Legolas’ fingers covetously roamed the fiery locks of the captain’s hair. He saw the raw, fiery terror in his eyes as he stared at Kristy, like a cornered animal. Time was short, and Estel didn’t move.

“You nearly killed her!” he hissed, “…You said she was _safe._ ”

“I…I shut the door. I know I did.” Kris whispered desperately.

“Goblins can open doors, fool of a woman!” he shot back savagely. The viciousness in his voice shocked him. Legolas didn’t mean to put it there. But it was there and he couldn’t take it back.

Kristy back stepped, panting in sweat, tears… fear. “I didn’t know.”

“You should have!” Legolas spat. “You should have obeyed me. You never listen. _Never._ ”

“I- ” came a shrinking voice, and Legolas cut her off.

“The next time put your _own_ life at risk, not hers!”

“Legolas,” Aragorn snapped. “Calm yourself. There is no time for this.”

The elf whipped his eyes to Estel, remnants of panic and fury there. There _wasn’t_ time. Legeolas knew that. And he didn’t argue. He forced his head down, still holding Tauriel, breathing fast.

“Hurry.” Aragorn looked between them. Kristy stared at him, panting. The static in the air eased a little. “Tell Kristy to pack her things.” He told Legolas. “We are leaving.”

. . .

 _Snap, whir… snap, whir…_ Aragorn stared through the windshield wipers as snow melted on the glass.

“Do you know the way?”

Kris held onto the steering wheel in the dark; Aragorn was in the passenger seat. An unconscious Tauriel was bundled in a warm, thick blanket, wrapped in Legolas’ arms. She saw them in the rear mirror, the ice blue of Legolas’ eyes. They stared out the dark window. They were like wet, bitter pools of midnight water …empty.

Nothing.

The elf refused to interpret for him, so Aragorn let it go.

“Where are you going?” he asked quietly.

Kristy didn’t answer… but Estel had the sneaking suspicion she understood him and was simply too upset to answer. Another wave of orcs came down from the woods just as they were loading into the car. They barely managed to escape unscathed. Legolas already had his arm slammed in the door to crunch a goblin.

“Talk to her, Legolas.” Aragorn muttered from the front seat. He stared at the road ahead, but he felt the elf’s eyes turn harder.

Legolas wouldn’t answer.

“At least tell her to stop this ‘car’ when she can.” Estel said. “She is bleeding.”

Still no answer.

“ _I_ am as well, Legolas, and so are you. Tell her…please. Talk to her.”

The cold blue eyes shot a look at him, knowing exactly what the Dunedain was doing, before Legolas said flatly. “Stop the car when you find a place to acquire _supplies,_ Kristine.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, highness.” She growled.

 _Highness?_ She knew he hated that. “Do not speak to me like that, woman.”

“Or what? What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll-”

“Legolas!” Aragorn hissed. “You are not a child.”

A tense minute passed, Legolas fuming and holding Tauriel tighter against his chest. He was cold and damp, arms buried in the warm blanket.

“I’m getting out of these woods.” She mumbled, mostly in Westron.

Ah…so she did understand. Aragorn thought as much.

They pulled into a grocery store an hour’s drive south. Aragorn was nervous inside the car, but Legolas had told him about it and he focused on bigger problems. The parking lot was well lit by the store windows; they could see the gas station under white light.

Kristy got out, cast one look at the back of Legolas’ head pressed against the window…and slammed the door shut.

“Legolas...” Aragorn stooped to look in the back seat. “Come with us.”

Legolas’ boots were propped on the seat on either side of Tauriel’s, her head on his chest in the dark.

“You are brooding.”

“I am not.”

“Leave the captain here.” Estel urged. “She will be fine. Come inside and get what you need.”

“By asking Kristy?” Legolas snapped in a hoarse whisper. The woman was waiting on the curb with a hard, burned expression, arms folded. His words played over and over in her head…that fierce, burning anger. It was like he hated her and she couldn’t forget it.

Aragorn didn’t answer a moment. But his gray eyes darkened. He stared at his friend and the woman clutched in his arms, how Legolas stared at the floor, before sighing and walking away. He left the door open.

The lights were bright inside the grocery store. Kristy followed Estel through and as they moved down the aisles, she walked so close, her hand brushed his with every step. Her fingers were shaking and no matter how hard she kept her mouth shut tight, it shook. She hit her face with dusty hands to keep tears from falling.

“W-we need food and some first-aid stuff.” Kris mumbled.

“Legolas is thirsty.” Aragorn added.

Nothing.

“Kristine…?”

The woman wordlessly snatched a water bottle from the shelf.

Aragorn rubbed his unshaved face. This wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe they’d simply have to sort it out themselves…

Outside, Legolas watched Estel come out with Kristy, sit her on the curb. She was bleeding and Aragorn took care of it. Legolas rubbed strands of copper hair in his fingers, staring through the glass.

“I don’t need bandage or anything, really.” Kristy muttered. “I’m fine.”

Estel ignored her, examining a jagged slash running up the inside of her arm. She winced as he cleaned it, a swab of alcohol and cotton.

“What about highness?” she muttered. “His arm was bleeding pretty bad, wasn’t it?”

Aragorn glanced up. It was strange, the way she pieced bits of Westron into what she wanted. “Legolas’ injuries are not serious.”

“Yeah… I’ll bet.”

Kristy dipped her head to peer sidelong at him through a shroud of hair. He was still in the car, holding Tauriel, watching them. Watching. _Why didn’t he look away?_ Or come out here, snap, say something angry so she could fight back? Sitting in silence was killing her.

“He doesn’t understand.” Kristy said finally. She didn’t know why she couldn’t keep it down. It just spilled out. “I try to talk to him sometimes and it’s like he doesn’t _hear_ me. His mind is somewhere else! He wasn’t always like that… And he’s constantly worried over _Tauriel_ these past days _._ It’s like she’s so tiny and _fabulously_ beautiful, she needs him there looking at her every single instant.”

“Do not be so hard on him, Kristine.”

“Hard on him? He’s the one that-that-” She spluttered and broke off. “Well, you saw what happened.”

“Yes.” A few minutes passed… and Aragorn chose to speak again. “He is not himself. My friend is changed some, since last I saw him.”

“Changed?” she repeated in Westron. Is that the word he said? It was hard to know sometimes. “Changed how?”

Aragorn just sighed. “He has lost much. You should know he meant nothing of what he said, in the woods.” Then, the man looked over to the car where he saw a glimpse of Legolas’ stormy eyes, and he said more to himself than her. “It seems he has difficulty maintaining perspective...As if perhaps he cannot keep up with himself.”

Kristy stared at him a long minute. She couldn’t be sure if she understood or not. But, instead of pushing it, she dropped her eyes. “How come she’s so sick?” she muttered, fidgeting with her fingers. A cold night wind shivered through her thin coat, but she ignored it. She didn’t want to go back to that car…wit him.

“I-it’s like she’s in shock, or something, like him. You didn’t, and you remember everything. What happened?”

Almost instantly, Estel’s eyes sharpened again and he snapped his chin up. “I…” he took a deep breath. “I am unsure. Perhaps because elves are immortal creatures, of magic and light.” Then, he glanced around. “I’m afraid there is little magic in this place. It is as if it’s been…taken from them. I am mortal, you see, Kristine. I am of the Dunedain, not elves. I have only one lifetime to live, and one life to remember.”

She nodded slowly. “I hope you do, anyway. If my government finds you, I don’t think you’ll have that either.” Kristy cast one more look at the shadow of Legolas, letting fear, anger and a miserable tinge of remorse flood through her feelings, before dropping her eyes.

“I don’t know how we’re going to get back to the city. I don’t know how you’re going to get back, or fix this or… or anything. I’m sorry, Estel. I’m so sorry.”

Aragorn lifted a worn, tired hand and touched her arm. “We will find a way…if there be one.”

Kristy nodded slightly, staring at her hands, before whispering. “Sure.”

. . .

**A/N: Thank you for reading. Also! Apologies for spelling ‘orc’ as ‘orch’ the last chapter. I’ll fix that. It looked right and I forgot to check with the book. :))**

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hello again. I hope you like this chapter, because I had an absolutely wonderful time writing it. I’m not sure why, but I did. This chapter is for those poor people in New Zealand though, who suffered such violent earthquakes last night.**

. . .

_Don’t cry because it’s over! Smile because it happened. –Dr. Seuss :)_

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

With Friends Like These

. . .

 

“Legolas… please, this is taking too long.” Aragorn gestured to the open car door.

Tauriel was asleep in the back seat, Kristy waiting impatiently in the driver’s. The captain fluttered between consciousness and a dim, foggy world of healing. Her breathing had steadied out though and Estel told him that he wanted to monitor her for a while.

Aragorn was after all, a healer.

“I simply feel that she is better with me.” Legolas reasoned. “She senses my presence and it soothes her.”

Kristy tried not to roll her eyes.

“Well, it is true!” he insisted. “She knows when I’m near.”

“Trust me or not, friend, Tauriel has become dear to me as well.” Aragorn said in Sindarin, ignoring her barely suffocated gag. He didn’t need Kristy laughing at the disgruntled elf. “I hardly believe she will throw a fit if I take a turn with her.”

Legolas was about to say something back, a protest, anything… But he glanced at the front seat. Kristy was staring at him, arms folded over her chest. She was just waiting for him to say it. Probably so she could laugh - he thought bitterly - or ridicule him. Legolas was fast realizing Kristy did not like Tauriel.

“Oh… very well.” he muttered. Legolas dropped gracelessly into the front seat and slammed the door shut.

“ _Thank_ you, Mr. Decisive.”

“I want to hear nothing from you about it!” he snapped.

“- You may have her the moment I am satisfied she is healthy.” Estel broke in again.

“Good.”

With that, Kristy glanced over and Legolas scowled. He wanted to lean away, but he couldn’t. That… woman was too close to him, in the small confines of the car. It made him want to scratch the shoulder she was close to.

They pulled off the shoulder of the freeway, traffic whizzing past in a steady blur, and picked up speed again. They moved out into the fast lane. “So… any thoughts on how to get through the road blocks?” Kris spoke up after a minute.

“How did you get through the first time?” Aragorn was in the back. He examined Tauriel’s pulse with a quiet, steady hand and his eyes were distracted. Her clumsy Westron was good enough to understand in a pinch, though. And Legolas wasn’t willing to translate.

“We busted through last time: genius here’s idea. That’s not going to work, though.” Kris said. “They’re on the watch. They’ll probably be extra suspicious of this car, too: a silver Grand Prix? No, never.”

”Are there any routes unguarded?” he pressed.

Kristy shook her head. “All the streets are closed.”

“Then _what_ do you suggest?” Legolas snapped finally, looking over. “Proceed as we go and hope all goes well? Trust in the innate goodness of your people’s police?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what? How do we get through, Kristine?”

Kris narrowed her eyes, suddenly holding the steering wheel in a death grip. She felt his cerulean blue eyes burning into her, fierce and impatient. It made her want to snap back at him, saying something stupid and smart that wouldn’t help. But she didn’t.

“Well, you and Aragorn could get through on foot. There are drainage tunnels everywhere, and they can’t possibly have all those miles blocked, not now after these storms are spreading. They wouldn’t have the manpower.”

“And what of Tauriel?” Legolas said fiercer than he had to. It was maddening. Every time she spoke, it was like she forgot about her entirely! Didn’t she care?

“What about her? Just stay off the streets; you’ve gotta be used to rougher than that. Let her tough it.”

“Tauriel is not well.” He grit his teeth. “She will _not_ be dragged through _drainage_ ditches.”

“Fine. Don’t then. I don’t care.”

“And what then, oh master of plans? Where do we take her?”

Kris shot a furious look. “Oh, leave her anywhere!” she snapped. “Maybe a Red Cross truck will pick her up.”

“A... a _what_?” He burst in disbelief. How could she be so cruel? “Over my dead body!”

Kristy huffed, muttering a curse. “What dead-beat TV show did you pick that up from?”

“Your favorite.” Legolas shot back.

“You!” Kristy shook her head, grimacing. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

_Doesn’t matter?_ Legolas snapped his head straight and inwardly fumed. Tauriel was precious and deathly helpless. She needed him like he needed her all those years ago. And it _didn’t matter_? The stubborn woman refused to understand. He had to change things! There was no damnable dwarf in the way, this time. He wouldn’t abandon her again.

“It does matter.”

“Get over it, Legolas! I was just kidding.”

And that did it.

“Then spare me your perverse sense of humor, Kristine!” The Sindar told him not to, but the Sylvan in him was screaming at him. Say it _._ _Say it._ So he did…quietly, in very careful English.

“And your childish, pathetic anger is an unbecoming, twisted form of _jealousy_ that disgusts me.”

Kristy almost stomped on the breaks. “Je- _jealousy_?” she gasped in shock. The car jolted as she let off the gas. “You think I’m jealous of that-that _red_ headed little elf?” she swore violently. “Who do you think you are?”

“Yes.” He hissed. “You are. It colors your every look toward her an ugly green. Don’t deny it.”

Kristy couldn’t believe it. Not only that he talked like that…but he actually…he actually thought it! Legolas said the bitter truth when he was so furiously upset. He didn’t lie like that.

And suddenly, Aragorn snapped at him, harsh and quiet in Sindarin. Legolas clamped his mouth shut angrily and sat back in his seat. But he didn’t answer.

“You are delusional, you stupid elf princeling.” Kristy panted hard. She struggled to speed up with traffic, ignoring the honks of protest as she swerving around patches of ice. “And you can take your high-and-mighty rhetoric off into that _sulking_ corner of yours.” She growled. “We don’t need it.”

He whipped his head up, eyes flashing. “I -”

“Legolas!” Aragorn bit out.

He tried to shove off his friend’s warning, ignore it. But he couldn’t. A place deep down knew he was being childish. This wasn’t the time to be fighting with Kristy. It was stupid and juvenile. But still, he wasn’t wrong. The woman _was_ jealous. And she _was_ resentful.

“I simply was going to say, Estel…” he said much more calmly, forcing his breathing to slow. “-that I have no time to argue. After all, we _do_ have a problem to solve.”

Aragorn nodded slowly. To Legolas’ relief, he didn’t press it.

“I believe Kristy’s idea is not without merit.” Estel said carefully, letting Tauriel lean back in his arm and securing the seat belt around her more firmly. “She will pass through the road block alone, while we take another route. Turn away the eye of the enemy, while we pass unnoticed.”

Kris threw a smug look in Legolas’ direction. She loved it when she was right.

“But how wide do you believe their watch to spread?” Estel asked quicker, throwing another warning glance. Legolas looked like he was going to escalate that single look again. “We will pass into the city on foot, taking Tauriel with us.”

She nodded slightly. “A-alright. I can give you my phone too, so we’re sure to meet up again.”

“Fone?” Estel repeated, confused.

“In this case,” Legolas explained coolly, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “It will be as a moving, living map so we will not misplace ourselves.”

“I…see.”

Judging by his voice, he didn’t.

“And just make sure you don’t lose it, huh?” Kris asked, aiming it at Legolas. “I can’t afford another, especially after you lost the last one.”

Legolas smiled sweetly. “And miss the chance to reunite myself with your charming presence? I wouldn’t think of it.”

. . .

It was half an hour later. Traffic was backed up so thick, it could barely move. They crawled forward inch by inch, waiting for the soldiers to pass every single vehicle. Legolas sat stiffly in the front seat until the station gradually came into view. Kris had come in on the west side though, instead of the same roadblock they demolished.

“Where will we meet, exactly?” Legolas said finally, breaking the quiet. His voice was more subdued now.

Kris didn’t answer a moment, before taking her phone from the console. She was silent. “How about the corner of Madison and 3rd? Busy enough to get lost in a crowd, if you have to.”

He nodded in agreement. “Very well.”

An awkward moment passed. Estel chose not to break it, feeling the tension in the air ripple and ease a little. Kristy glanced sideways, keeping herself stiff and still. She opened her mouth once, as if to say something…but nothing quite came out.

Legolas stared ahead.

“We had best move soon, before your soldiers see us.” Aragorn said, glancing between them. Tauriel was gathered in his arms, letting the prompt settle in the air.

Strain sank into it after his words though, like ripples in a lake.

Their plan could fail. The two could not see each other again…ever. If their plan did fail, they would be captured and used to answer every question Kristine’s country wanted to know. They would never get back home. Kristine would face criminal charges. They would be parted on silly, bitter terms for all eternity. Didn’t they realize this?

Legolas was still an instant, before pushing the door open and getting out onto the freeway. “I am ready.”

… Apparently not.

Estel lingered an instant, before murmuring. “Kristine, I thank you for your help in this ordeal.”

She turned in her seat, blue-green eyes blinking, before glancing down with a self-conscious twitch. “I-I…it’s alright.”

“I know your part in this has not been without risk.” he said quieter yet.

Kristy looked down, trying to put as much strength in her words as possible. “I, um, thank you Aragorn. It’s all right, really. I don’t regret it. I mean no matter how it looks, you know with…” she glanced at Legolas’ rigid, angry form standing outside. “…with him.”

Estel let his mouth twitch into a tiny smile. “Yes, he is stubborn at times.”

“Yeah.” She agreed. “I just hope you make it alright.”

“Lle hannon.” Estel murmured, before Legolas opened the door and reached in for Tauriel. He stepped out into the windy, frigid air and the motionless traffic, Tauriel in Legolas’ arms. Kristy watched him go with a wretched, miserable expression on her face.

“Fare thee well!”

And suddenly, they were just about to take off toward the line of trees, and Kristy called through the open window. “Legolas!”

The elf glanced back.

Kris bit the inside of her lip, panting, racing for something to say…before saying too quiet to hear. “Good luck, Legolas.”

He stared an instant, rigid in the cloudy light, before turning and following Aragorn off the freeway and into the trees. She watched him go with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Damn elf.” She muttered, slouching back in the seat. He just wasn’t worth it, sometimes.

. . .

Freezing water dashed over stones and sloshed up on the snowy banks. Legolas picked his way over the rough shore, Tauriel in his arms, following Aragorn’s tracks. His boots skipped from rock to rock, gusts rushing in his ears and buffeting him in the wind-swept gulley. It was fiercely cold.

“So…what is all this with Kristine?” Aragorn spoke up, making towards a wet, stone drainage tunnel. Water poured from its mouth and it was black inside, but it led into the city.

Legolas kept his mouth shut, refusing to answer.

“Is your pride really so unbending? Surely this is not all for such a simple mistake, my friend.” Estel said again. “You are not one to hold grudges.”

Tauriel shifted against his chest, and he looked down. She was doing it more and more, almost waking…ever since the cabin. He caught a glimpse of jade-green eyes fluttering under dark, thick lashes. So beautiful. It reminded him of just what he could have lost, so easily, so flippantly because of a stupid, careless girl.

They reached the stone block where the steel pipe dumped shallow, freezing water. Legolas lifted Tauriel up onto the block, before leaping up after her. Aragorn was a step behind and then beside, about to enter the tunnel, but he paused.

“Aragorn, please…” he sighed in exasperation.

“No,” the ranger took Legolas’ arm and kept him there. “Listen to me, my friend. Hear me.” And suddenly, a twinge of a smile pulled at his mouth. “For I obviously know better than you.”

Legolas gave a skeptical look.

“Do _not_ make enemies where you have none.” He warned him anyway. “You have plenty of those. Friends are harder to find.”

“She does not wish to be my friend.”

Aragorn stepped back, eyes glinting. “You truly think that?”

“She has not been my friend today!” he snapped. The humor instantly faded from his eyes. “And she certainly was not yesterday, or the night she-she…” Legolas turned away, clutching Tauriel tighter in his arms.

“Kristine only desires to help you.”

“And what of Tauriel?” he bit out. “Did she wish to help when she nearly killed her? When she deserted her and left her to the whim of the enemy? I do not need that kind of help, Estel. And I do not need that kind of friend.”

Legolas made to walk on, but Aragorn grabbed his arm again, jerking him back. “What are those eyes for, you fool of an elf?” he chided surprisingly earnestly. It made Legolas pause. “Can you not see? It is as plain as your poin-” Aragorn stopped, glancing to his rounded, human ears, before thinking better of it. “It is plain to me what has happened. If you do not reconcile with her now, you will lose her.”

Legolas stared at him, jaw set stubbornly, before turning his face away. “I…I cannot let her treat Tauriel so. They are close to me, both of them. I must _choose_. And you know I cannot choose Kristine.”

Aragorn pulled a hood over his head, leaving just a solemn unshaved mouth. And then, he muttered. “Very well, my obstinate friend. It is your life to live as you will...”

Kris pulled out from the guard station as fast as possible, breath skipping in her chest. That was close! The army soldier at the station recognized the little car as the same type that broke through station 22. He even ran her license plate. But there was nothing on her. She didn’t have a criminal record…really, no record at all. She hadn’t accomplished anything of note, either good or bad. Never was she so glad of that.

He let her go with a grim wave.

Making her way through the city, Kristy was nervous the whole time she drove. Her thoughts drifted to Aragorn. From what she could tell from the books, there really wasn’t anything impossible for him. But he was out of his element. How could he stay thinking clearly, surrounded by such foreignness? Legolas…he was already so upset. And whose fault was that? Hers.

Madison and 3rd didn’t come soon enough. She was so agitated, searching and scanning the throng of passersby, she kept imagining Legolas’ blonde head in the crowd. She saw policemen stopping them, wondering at the cloak Aragorn insisted on wearing. He took some clothes of Legolas’ to wear beneath, but still…

It would be so easy to lose them… In a blink of an eye, a snap of a finger, all this could be for nothing. They could be gone.

… Bright white light broke from behind the clouds as Aragorn and Legolas stepped out into the sun. Towering, steel monsters clawed at the sky overhead. The constant roar of traffic was already a dull hum.

“Aragorn.”

Estel glanced back.

“Aragorn!” Legolas looked up quickly, “Tauriel, she…she is waking.”

“Keep your eyes on her.” He warned. “Do not let her cry out.”

But she wasn’t shouting… It came slowly, and as block after block passed, taking side-streets and secluded alleys mostly, she was stirring into consciousness. Legolas felt the muscles in her legs moving as she twisted in his arms.

“Tauriel…?” he said softly. Madison and 3rd was coming up, just a block away now, and he didn’t know what to do with her! What would she do when she saw the city around her. Brick, stone, and steel like this could suffocate a Woodland elf. It nearly did him.

“My Tauriel…can you hear me? It is Legolas.”

“Legolas…” she mumbled through numb, stiff lips. “Legolas?”

“Estel, she remembers me!” he exclaimed with joy. “I told you.”

Aragorn shook his head. “You just told her your name, Legolas.”

“Oh…I did.” Legolas frowned once, before pushing the thought down. “I am sure she does, anyway.”

“Legolas…?” she whispered, half delirious. He saw her emerald eyes open, scanning the buildings around her, the windows tinted black, people and scores of faces…all different, all moving.

And suddenly, the captain jolted awake. She flew her eyes open and looked wildly over the sky. A burst of foul smell, gas, fumes, sounds and shouts of honking, squealing, chirping tires filled her ears. Panic stabbed through her like ice and she kicked out of Legolas’ grip. Her boots landed on pavement.

“Tauriel, it is all right.”

“No…no,” she staggered back, gasping. “What is this? What place is this?”

“It is-”

“- The trees!” she burst out in thick Sindarin, spinning around, stumbling. “W-where are the _trees_?”

“Tauriel! It is alright…settle down-” He didn’t make it.

She fought him off violently and Aragorn reached to grab her wrist, but she twisted out of it. She would have broken her own arm to do it.

“Tauriel!” he tried, but she bolted down the street, pushing people aside. Shocked eyes and ears were on them, and they couldn’t shout out after her…The police could hear! Red hair flew out behind her like dark flames and Legolas grimaced, before sprinting after her. Aragorn was only a step behind.

He caught glimpses and flashes of her through the pushing, peering throng. It was rush hour; everyone was hurrying to get home before the city’s curfew. But the woman was so small. She just dove and slipped between them. Legolas had to push and shove his way through.

“Tauriel!” he called out in desperation, one last time. There was already so much noise he didn’t care. Dusk was falling. He had to get her back! If she was out after dark, the soldiers would get her. He’d lose her; he’d lose her again and he couldn’t take it. “ _Tauriel!”_

And then a glimpse of silver shot up into his peripheral vision and he slowed, panting. _Kristine._ Damn this weak, human body. In his panic, he could barely even spit out what he had to say. He’d barely slept in days and his mind, body and soul were exhausted. This was no _time_ for exhaustion. He had to catch her!

“Kristy!” he shouted through the people’s irritated, pushing glances. They were between him and her. It was always like this, always something between himself and the thing he needed. “Tauriel broke away. She woke up and now she looks for trees. But there are none. We must _find_ her!”

“Trees?” Kristy grimaced in confusion. _Did she hear right?_ She must have. Trust a stupid elf to scramble through a city looking for _trees_. “Where did she go? …Straight that way?” she pointed vigorously in the direction he was headed.

Legolas couldn’t get to her. He wanted to pull the door open and tell her where to go, to get her back himself. But there wasn’t time. Kristy’s face tightened into a frown, and she turned away, speeding off through honks and shouts of angry citizens.

_Tauriel._ She was gone. He couldn’t do anything.

Aragorn ran up at that moment, glancing around fast, before saying quickly. “Where is she? What happened? Was that not Kristine?”

Legolas nodded mutely. “It was.”

It took a long moment, heart pounding and slowing in his chest, before he realized what happened. Kristy had taken off without him. And he didn’t like it.

_Trees._ That’s where she said she was going. Trees…trees…Where were the closest trees? Kris looked from side to side, searching for flaming red hair, policemen…anything that might be the former elf’s trail. But she only had the ruckus in the crowds to follow. There was a parting line that slid shut again on the busy sidewalk, stumbling citizens, spilled fruit. All this, Kristy followed to keep track of her.

And then, a thought struck her. _Farview..._ That had trees. The park was just a couple of blocks ahead, too. Maybe that was where she’d stop.

Kris didn’t bother parking or pulling in once she got there. She pulled up against the curb, caught the glimpse of green and red running full-speed up the street…and then she realized something. There was a high, arching bridge between Tauriel and the bare, black branches of the park. It was a twenty foot drop into freezing water if she didn’t. _Would she realize that?_

Kristy didn’t know, and she didn’t want to chance it. Legolas would be devastated…he’d be proved right if she let her drop, if she died in that frigid water. But that wasn’t the reason she slammed the door shut and bolted after the elf.

… She’d spent all this time wondering why the woman had to be here. She wanted to know why she came in the first place…why things couldn’t just go on the same. Aragorn was Legolas’ friend. He was good for him. Kristy was glad he was here. But Tauriel… _what was she to Legolas?_ Was she here to steal him away, capture his heart and crush it? It was like Legolas was a different person around her, even when she was asleep and not guilty of anything. He was different. He didn’t need her, didn’t even want her.

Kris sprinted down the street, past the curb, up the windy, blinding bridge with its fierce wind and white light. She saw Tauriel stagger to the edge, straining for the spread of snow-swept grass, trees, water far below… And she climbed the rail. Kristy saw her eyes now. They weren’t focused; they were wild and untamed. She wasn’t thinking. Now she knew what the media was talking about…the violent, raving lunatics roaming the streets.

Kristy ran up and slammed into the barrier, then reached up and grabbed onto her clothes. Tauriel staggered back and fought the grip she was in, holding onto the rail. She struggled so hard Kristy almost thought she lost her…But then a sharp pull and the elf toppled.

“God…” she hissed, landing on her back. Kris landed on the pavement with a grunt, and she couldn’t hold onto the woman anymore. “Damn it!” Kristy coughed, staring, wincing in pain at a dizzying blur of white. It was the sky.

“T-tauriel…” she grimaced, forcing herself up on her elbows. The world spun out and Kris touched her head, flinching. Warm blood oozed from her temple, and it was sticky and hot in her fingers. She stared at it, feeling stunned and confused…before forcing herself to look up.

_Tauriel_.

She was against the wall, shivering, panting, staring at the massive bridge where they stood with wide, gaping eyes. Traffic whizzed back and forth in a frenzy. The look in those eyes made Kris’ heart slow and she sunk down. …They weren’t fierce and angry, like when she held the arrow at her throat They were terrified. Tears spilled down her dirty face and she searched Kristy’s desperately, looking for answers, something…anything. Whispered babbling poured from her lips and then, Kristy was overwhelmed with a surge of pity.

“Tauriel…” Kristy reached up and held her by the shoulders, helping her listen. Kris’s Westron was terrible, but it had to help. It had to do something _._ “Your name is Tauriel. You’re here on Earth. I know you don’t know where you are, but everything is fine. You’re alright. I promise.”

She shook her head, still confused, afraid. And Kristy shuffled down beside, letting the woman into her arms.

“It’s alright…” she whispered, rubbing her freezing hands. “It’s okay. Legolas will be here soon. I swear. He’ll know what to do.”

As if on cue, Legolas appeared in her peripheral vision. Aragorn jogged over the bridge’s rise, dark hair whipping in the wind, and Kristy squinted, lifting her eyes. She saw the fierce, desperate look of fear first. It was Legolas.

Legolas stared. _Kristy…_ she’d done it. Tauriel was sheltered in her arms, shaking. The two sat huddled against the barring wall, shielded from the bitter wind. The flood of relief almost consumed him. He slowed, panting more from panic than fatigue, and Kristy looked up. He searched her eyes as he whispered Tauriel’s name.

“Sh-she’s fine.” Kris shook, lifting her arm so Legolas could reach her.

He couldn’t think of the words to say. _She saved her…_ She saved her even after all that had happened. She didn’t hate her. Oh, how wrong he was! Legolas knotted his hands in the red-brown hair, unable to express what he felt.

“Thank you…” he said instead. Her eyes, stormy gray in the cloudy light, began to sparkle as snow fell in her lashes. Legolas knew Aragorn had skidded down beside. He knew he took Tauriel from his arms and was searching her for signs of shock, of fever, of sickness.

“Kristine…” he whispered, fingers trailing upward. The feelings, so baffling, so overwhelming rushing through him…he couldn’t understand. He didn’t know what to say. But her eyes were wet and she was trembling, trying not to break down in front of him. Red stained the pavement and it was blood: Kristy’s blood...

“Thank you.” He whispered more fiercely and he captured her forehead, kissing it.

There was nothing else to be done. Aragorn helped a stumbling Tauriel to her feet, Legolas supported her in his arms, and they went wordlessly…home.

_. . ._

_… Thank you._

Kristy lay on a cot in the corner. A scarlet-haired captain was across the room, finally sleeping peacefully in Kris’ bed. She was unsteady, but that spirit was fiery and strong. She’d walked to the car and managed to stay on her feet the whole way up to the apartment, Legolas explaining everything he could remember as he went.

_Thank you..._

That’s what he said, all he said. Did he mean it? Was he grateful for what she did? Did that mean he forgave her for… for almost getting his dear Tauriel killed? For all the stupid arguments they’d had?

Kristy just didn’t know. It drove her mad. She couldn’t stay still. She couldn’t sleep, despite Estel practically _ordering_ her to. He was right. Of course he was right! She was exhausted and cold. Kris just kept remembering the terrible things she’d said to Legolas in the last two days.

Why did guilt turn to fury so fast? Was it because he was so angry, she had to defend herself against him? Or was Legolas right, was she _jealous_ of the fiery haired Tauriel?

She just didn’t know.

Kristy tossed and turned under the covers, trying to forget. She tried to push it over her mind and not think about it. But she was cold, freezing actually. It was too weird to sleep in the same bed as Tauriel. The heater was out from the power failures and Kris wasn’t used to it.

And then suddenly…she couldn’t take it anymore. She pushed the covers off and crept over to the door, before slipping out and into the living room. Moonlight poured through the drapes, settled in faint silver crystals on the sheets…

Aragorn snored quietly on a plush, leather recliner across the room. Kristy stared at him. Then to Legolas, sleeping on the roll-away couch, face down in warm pillows.

The sight was so peaceful, so quiet. Kristy wanted to crawl up on the bed and touch Legolas awake. She wanted to ask him if they could be friends again…or if they ever were, really. She wanted to say ‘I’m sorry’ without any of the _if’s_ and _but’s,_ the stupid pride that made her want to cry in misery.

But she didn’t.

She shuffled through the room…aimlessly, wandering. The kitchen was dark and it made her feel colder; she didn’t want to go in there. She hovered near the frigid window, staring out over the city. This was home… Why didn’t it feel like it?

Kristy fell against the balcony sliding door, in the dark, and she felt the cold glass under her hands. She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, remembering the pictures on the news…the poor people, anything that came through that rift, even Legolas. Especially Legolas.

He was under so much pressure now. His whole world was upside down. _Why did she have to treat him so badly?_ Ever since the beginning, it seemed. She resisted him, refused to believe him, acted like a petty school girl for days. And over what? Retaliation? Jealousy?

She was breathing fast now. Kris felt the dark weigh down on her until it was crushing. She couldn’t think of a way out, collapsed against the window, _any_ way...

And then… she felt the warm brush of fingers on her bare shoulder.

Instantly, Kristy hissed a sharp breath and spun around. The first thing she realized were shadowed, keen blue eyes peering down at her. She almost froze still, but not quite.

“Legolas,” she spluttered breathlessly, suddenly nervous. “I-I-”

He lifted a single finger and placed it gently over her mouth, effectively shushing her.

Kris looked up. In the cool dark, she saw his gleaming eyes and the outline of his bare, broad shoulders in the moonlight. He tilted his head to the side, slowly dropping his hand from her mouth. And then, held her chin under his parted fingers.

“Legolas… um,” Kristy looked down, heart pounding in her ears. She remembered every minute of silence after the bridge, how he hadn’t said a word, how she wanted him to. But Aragorn was there, so was Tauriel. She couldn’t muster what it took to talk to him.

“Y-you don’t have a shirt on.” She said stupidly. She wanted to hit herself an instant later. This was her chance and she blew it!

_That’s it?_ That’s all she had to say? He didn’t have a shirt?

Legolas stared at her, narrowing his eyes in the faint light, confused. Did she not feel the same way? Didn’t she want reconciliation as badly as he did?

And then, Legolas sighed. He dropped his hand from her face. Kristy was shivering, and not from cold this time. She was doing that thing with her mouth again…the nervous twitch that told him she wanted to cringe. He wanted to say something to her. He couldn’t stand this stupidity any longer.

“Kristine,” he whispered. He held her shoulders in his hands, offering enough pressure to tug her closer, if she wanted him. He offered his arms. But she pulled back. Kristy turned her face away. “Please, let us not do this any longer. I cannot stand it. Can we not make things better again?”

In the semi-dark, she lifted wet, unsteady eyes.

“Kristy…” he said even fainter. He gently skimmed the skin of her arm and felt it dimple under his touch. She suddenly seemed so small, so fragile. “…little one, I am here. What can I say?” Legolas asked. He felt hollow, like he was missing something. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe he needed forgiveness. “Please, Kristine?”

Her chin trembled and she almost broke.

“Kristy, I am sorry. I want your _forgiveness_. I…I want you back; forgive me. ”

And suddenly, she cracked and stumbled closer. “I’m s-sorry…” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Legolas. I didn’t- I didn’t _mean_ to let that thing into the cabin. I didn’t, I swear.”

“Oh…” Legolas shook his head. Every last bit of pride faded and he sought her eyes. “I know that, little one. I know. There is no excuse, no reason for what I did. I did not mean what I said.” He tugged on her harder, suddenly desperate to have her. “I did not mean it, Kristy. Come here.”

“Legolas…” Kristy mouthed.

Legolas almost gasped in pure relief and he crushed her warm body in his arms. He pulled her off the floor and she had to let a breath go for the force of his hug. _Anger_ … real, bitter anger… _for her?_ It was unnatural. He couldn’t stand it.

Legolas let her slide to the floor and he swayed with her, knotting his hands in her hair. He ran through it, pulling his fingers through the tangles until it slid through freely. She was Kristine. She was the familiar anchor in a tide of chaos and confusion. She was a laugh at a funeral procession. She was forever in a day, so very mortal and alive. She was a warm body, a beating heart he could feel under his hands… She was thick tangles of hair he could gather in fistfuls, a fierce, calming presence he could bask in, without his _fea,_ without anything else but her touch.

“You are precious to me, Kristy…” he whispered without realizing it. He said it when the sheer sensations were blinding and muffling him. He was heady on the scent of her skin where he crushed her fiercely tight. He buried his face in her neck and whispered it again, “…so precious. I will not lose you.”

Kris went limp in his arms and let him hug her. It felt so terribly good. She rubbed her fingers back and forth, caressing the back of his neck and feeling the silky fibers, his hair in her hands.

“I understand.” She whispered without knowing why. Maybe she did, after all. “I k-know.”

And slowly, Legolas reluctantly pulled back. He inhaled deeply, tilting his chin to rest on her head. Then he ran his hands down her sides and rested them on her hips. He looked down, holding her sides, drawing her closer again.

“No… you do not.” He tilted his head again, staring into her closed eyes. No matter how close he leaned, she wouldn’t open them. She did very, very carefully run her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders though. And then, he kissed the tip of her nose.

“I love her, Kristy.” He whispered.

Kris’s eyes shot open.

“Yes…” he almost smiled at that expression. “I do.”

Kristy looked up, utterly shocked. She stared, horrified. He didn’t even notice. _Maybe he didn’t care._ He was too busy staring dreamily out the window, past her.

“Estel knows. I parted ways with her long before I met that Dunedain…” Legolas continued, glancing to the man sleeping on the lazy boy, before admitting. “But he does know. I think he does not approve, either. I know not why.”

“Legolas, I…” Kristy tried to pull back, but he didn’t let her. He glanced down, curious, before smiling harder and touching her face.

“Now do not worry, my little one.” He fairly grinned, showing sparkling white teeth. “I know I owe you this explanation -”

“No!” Kristy burst out in a whisper, “No, please Legolas. You don’t owe me anything. I- I don’t want to hear this. Please don’t make me.”

The elf’s eyes furrowed. “I… I do not understand.”

“Please, I’m…” Kris looked down and up, frantically thinking of an excuse. “I’m tired, and-and I’m cold, that’s all.”

“Oh…” he said slowly. He felt something then, something like a bite. Was he… _hurt_? Did she actually hurt his feelings, just because she didn’t want to hear of his love life? Or rather, the love life he wished he had…

And suddenly, a brilliant idea hit him. His face spread into a warm, mischievous smile. “Then sleep with me.”

Kristy blinked. “What?”

“Sleep with me.” He took her trembling hand, slowly interlacing their fingers. Legolas tugged on her gently, “You are shaking. Keep warm with me.”

“I…oh, I-I really don’t think so.” She shook her head, trying not to let him lead her to the bed. He just kept smiling, his king-fisher blue eyes gleaming in the dark. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Legs. You know, with T-tauriel and everything…”

“Nonsense.” Legolas grinned, before sliding onto the bed backwards, dragging his legs up after him. This was the way to make amends with her. He felt his Sylvan side surge to life, and he let it. “Come on.”

“Oh…”

“Come _on._ ” He insisted.

Carefully, Kristy crawled up onto the bed and Legolas slid the blankets over her legs. She shivered, from cold and nervousness, and she felt every shift of the mattress as he slid down. The sheets were exquisitely warm where he’d lain and Kris slipped down next to him.

A few moments passed, Legolas on his side, an arm pillowing his head as he stared at her. A mad, delighted smile pulled at his mouth and he couldn’t stop. Reconciliation was such a wonderful thing. The woman stared breathlessly into the dark, feeling the rise and fall of the sheets with every gentle breath he took.

“Kristine…”

“Yes?”

“Goodnight.” He murmured.

“I…” she sighed, “g’night.”

. . .

**A/N: Thanks for reading.) It feels like I’m writing into a bit of a black hole though…honestly. I’ve posted this story on other sites such as fanfiction .net, and they seem to like it. Yet there’s next to no feedback here. Is there a reason? Should I even bother posting anymore?**

**I don’t write exclusively for reviews or anything; don’t get me wrong. But I do like to stay informed. If you don’t enjoy the story, please just let me know. :)**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                


	15. No Fraternizing with the Enemy

**A/N: Hello! Here we are a week until Thanksgiving…hardly able to believe it. So happy early Holidays!**

**Thank you for your reviews ! I appreciate them so much. Really, they’re like smiles on a cloudy day. :))**

. . .

_Fall seven times; stand up eight._ – Japanese Proverb

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No Fraternizing with the Enemy

. . .

Kristy woke to the gentle, rhythmic feel of someone’s breathing. _Tick…tock…tick…_ she sighed. Infernal clock. It woke her up every time.

Cool air on her ear sent a chill running down her neck, and then warmth of the exhale made her spine tingle… She registered the firm body pressed up against her back, and it made her smile in the dreamy, hazy world of sleep. She knew who it was long before her conscious mind did. Kris turned her face into the warm pillows, breathing in his scent…pines, leather. The full, heady scent of shorn grass in the rain filled her senses, like a rainforest in the night… or sweet tea leaves.

“Legolas…” she breathed without realizing it. It was a sigh, or a wish, something she did almost without thinking about it.

No answer.

He was asleep.

And suddenly, Kris went still. She became terrified to move, afraid of waking him in the dusky, predawn light. But she had to see him. Very, very carefully, she shifted onto her back and tilted her chin back to gaze up into his dark, closed lashes. His hair was messy and it twisted every which way: over his eyes, down his neck. It was long enough to reach past his collar now and… _oh good God!_ Kris jolted awake. He didn’t have a collar!

Kristy remembered all of last night: the apologies, hair, his hugs, his… _acute_ shirtlessness, and then admission. He-he loved…Tauriel. Of course he loved her.

Kris looked away. Why did the thought bother her? It was wonderful! She should be happy for him, for her, for both of them. Jubilant! She should be overjoyed. Legolas found his one, true mate. He-he …

“Oh, Legolas.” she whimpered again, so faint he didn’t stir.

Kristy looked up and trailed her eyes over his face. Her hands unwillingly found themselves under the blankets, touching him, grazing his skin, feeling how it tingled under her touch. He was so warm, so all-enveloping. All she could think of, laying in the semi-dark, contemplating what she was losing… his chiseled face, the warm sweet smile that sparkled in his eyes when he was happy.

Kristy closed her eyes, sliding her fingers up his smooth arm so he held her more tightly. _God, it felt good._ She felt his muscles tense slowly, like taut cord at the movement, a strung bowstring, and she thought she woke him. But then, he went lax again and so did she.

Maybe he’d only smile for _her_. Maybe he would only laugh when she was close. His hands would develop a liking for fondling her hair, hovering near her constantly. He’d always be looking at her, touching her…just like he did now, only worse. He-he’d… -

Legolas registered glittering rays of sunlight pouring through the break in the drapes and he cracked his eyes open. Kristy’s shifting let in a cool gust of air. The former elf shivered, pulling her closer out of reflex. To his surprise though, she was more than willing. He felt her cold fingers dig into him, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

_Hm._

Kristy’s eyes pressed shut just as he glanced down, as if in pain. And then, Legolas realized something. She didn’t know he was awake… And the thought amused him. Obviously, she thought his body heat was hers for the taking.

“Cold…?” his voice said, quiet and husky from sleep.

Kristy jolted.

“Ssh!” he hushed, half-laughing. The violent lurch made the bed shift a little. “You will wake Estel.” He warned.

Kristy turned her eyes wildly from the lazy-boy across the living room to Legolas’ tiny, amused smile. She squinted and spluttered in a whisper, “Ah… I-I, god, let me go.”

“But it is not yet morning, even.” He protested. “Stay a little longer.”

“I-I…no, I can’t.” she squirmed against him weakly, grimacing. “Let me go!”

And obediently, Legolas lifted his arm.

“Alright.”

Kris immediately went still. She was suddenly left cuddled against him very one-sidedly. She glanced down, as if unable to believe he was so willing to obey. He smiled harder. And the rush of freezing air seemed to change her mind.

“O-okay, little longer.” She hissed shakily, still breathing quick. “I’ll stay down...don’t let go.”

It _was_ terribly cold. Legolas had to admit. It even chilled him, and he was used to it. So Legolas snuggled back down into the exquisitely warm blankets. And suddenly, Kristy shivered and her legs automatically pulled up at the rush of cold air as he dropped the blankets again.

Legolas winced.

“Sorry.” She mumbled in a tiny whisper.

“… s’alright.” He untangled his legs from hers and carefully pushed her knee down from between his legs. It didn’t hurt very much, but with a nervous Kristy… it felt dangerous having her in that position.

“Alright… come here then.” He whispered.

Krissy amenably, carefully nestled down against him again. Legolas closed his eyes and squeezed her tight once, smiling in that everything was perfect between them. Ah, how good it was. Tauriel did not change anything. How wrong he was. Legolas sighed into Kristy’s hair, their breaths in synch, warming again as the blankets settled.

She wasn’t jealous.

She wasn’t envious.

“Kristine…?” he murmured after a little while. The scent of her hair filled his senses and he smiled in bliss. Legolas’ face rested on her head; light filtered into the room and he watched the sunrise come in through the window. It was cold…but beautiful and peaceful. Hazy blue sky promised a sparkling day for once. For once, he felt a bright, happy sense for the future.

“Hm.” she grunted.

“You said it was a holiday soon…eh, Christmas?”

“Yeah…” she huffed, rolling her eyes and fidgeting with his fingers. “Some Christmas Eve this is.”

“Hm.” He murmured. “Tauriel must see the city today, I think.” Legolas smiled anyway, ignoring the dark remark and thinking of all the wondrous things to show her.

“She saw it yesterday.”

Legolas didn’t mean to, but he stiffened. “Yes, but only its terrible side. She must see that she can survive here, for a while, that it is not _all_ bad.” Fountains in the gardens, revolving doors…he’d show her the safe inside of a car instead of the chaotic, terrifying traffic from the outside.

She still didn’t say anything.

Legolas glanced down. “Is anything wrong, Kristine?”

“Course not.” She mumbled. And then gradually, when his doubtful silence spoke volumes, she finished. “…just tired, and ‘little cold.”

“Well,” he beamed, suddenly happy again. “Aren’t you glad you chose to be here then?”

Kristy forced herself up onto one arm, pulling away from him a little. “What do _you_ know about it?”

Legolas shifted. His hair got in the way and he stretched out on his back, brushing it away. He couldn’t understand the sudden outburst, and he tried to gauge her expression, confused. He couldn’t.

“What?”

“ _How_ do you know where I want to be?” she asked utterly seriously.

After all, he didn’t asked. He never did. And he didn’t ask if she wanted to sleep with him either! They had once or twice before. Yes! But-but that was different. Tauriel wasn’t here before. She’d thought…well, she didn’t know what she thought. But Legolas’ admission last night was like a blunted blow. It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t matter but…

But it did.

And then, she looked up and instantly regretted her words. There was barely concealed hurt in his gray eyes.

“It just so happened that I did want to…” she added, putting a faint, false smile on her mouth. He looked too confused, too wounded. She couldn’t stand doing that to him, no matter how much she wanted to hit back against the dull ache clamping down in her chest. “Actually, you’re kind of warm. You know that, elf?”

Legolas didn’t quite answer, before reaching up and brushing her face with the tips of his fingers. “Are you all right, Kristy?”

“Fine.” She shifted her gaze uncomfortably to his mouth, the unruly lock of hair on his forehead, the grain of the pillows…anything but his eyes. “I’m fine; scout’s honor.”

“…really?” He said tentatively, looking at her.

And then he furrowed his brows and slipped his fingers around her neck to ease her down again. She crumpled into the crook of his arm, pressing her face down on his chest.

“Really.”

The tension in Legolas’ spine eased a little, and he relaxed back in the pillows. Their positions had changed a little. She wasn’t flush with him anymore. Kristy settled down at an angle, so the warmth of her body was in the cold sheets and not tangled in his legs. Her fingers curled into claws under the blankets, leaving white prints on his skin.

“I…did not mean that.” He clarified anyway, still a little unsettled. “I meant to ask you a question.”

Legolas glanced down over her dark blonde hair, chestnut in the faint light. Just her head rested on his chest. _Did she really not want to be here?_

“You didn’t ask a question.”

“I am sorry.” He insisted, suddenly wondering if the statement meant double things. “I… I did not think you minded.”

_She never minded before..._ Was this reaction because of Tauriel? Did she think the captain would be angry if she caught them sharing a bed? It was ridiculous! This was exactly what he was trying to _prove_ to Kristy, that nothing changed between them. They were still friends- _good_ friends.

“I don’t mind.” she said quietly.

Wonderful.

That was the most insincere denial he’d ever heard. _Hadn’t they fought enough already?_

Legolas raced through his head frantically for something to say. There was tension in the air again. There wasn’t _supposed_ to be tension. Not with Kristy, not like this!

Legolas twisted slightly under her weight, unhappy.

With just the barest effort, there were so many weeks of peace. He was almost… almost content. Weren’t there whole _minutes_ gone by that he didn’t think of home? Those were happy minutes with Kristine, when he forgot how badly he wanted to go back and never remember this wretched, Valar-forsaken place.

That was what he needed! That’s what he needed right now…some minutes of warmth and pleasure, gentle sunlight, companionable silence.

“I… Kristy,” he spoke up quietly. Legolas lifted an arm and rubbed her shoulders warmly, affectionately, trying to soothe her. “I know what your answer will be, but I must ask you all the same.”

“Shoot.”

“Uh…” he said carefully, easing his hands down to her arms. Legolas would ignore these feelings, the entire conversation. Hope they’d go away. “I wanted to _ask_ you, my little one, if you would care for Tauriel.” He said instead.

Kris didn’t answer.

“You know, in the-” Legolas cut off, wondering how to phrase it. Suddenly, he felt uncomfortable. “I mean the… ah, feminine… areas.”

Still no answer.

“ _Kristine_?” he shifted, glancing down. “You know, if they are the same here, as-as-”

Kristy smirked, wondering if he was going to stop.

“… as Arda, whatever you need for your…things.” Legolas glanced down and up, suddenly wondering why such a simple request was turning so hard. He grappled desperately for what to say. _Why didn’t she answer him?_

“I would not pretend to know.” He rushed on, suddenly anxious. “I-I mean that I know you’re clothes and such are, ah, _different_ then Tauriel’s. But they must be essentially the same, whatever you need underneath and for-for…womanly things. I-”

And then, Legolas felt her vibrate with a suppressed laugh.

She lifted her head off his shoulder. “Yes, I _do_ believe they’re pretty much the same everywhere, Legolas.”

And he realized just how fast his heart hammered under her hand. The fiendish little woman let him go on and on, just for her own amusement. She had felt that pounding under her palm all this time… and she was laughing.

She was laughing at _him._

“And yes, I can help with the _feminine_ areas, what-what _ever_ they are.” She mimicked him with a barely suppressed giggle.

Legolas groaned, pushing her face away. Kristy just laughed.

“Oh you’re such a man, Legs.”

“ _You_ are such a…” Legolas scrunched his forehead, trying to think of a retaliation. Instead, he grabbed her face as she jumped away from him, and he kissed her nose. “You are such a _female_.”

… And instantly, happening too fast to blink, Kristy dove forward and kissed him back.

It happened.

Legolas hissed in a sharp breath, surprised. Kristy’s lips touched his; he felt her breath on his face for such a spontaneous instant…it left him stunned. He wasn’t expecting it; he wasn’t thinking.

But then, as fast as it was there… it was gone. Kristy pulled back and looked at him, unsure, suddenly anxious.

“I…” Legolas glanced down and up, suddenly unsure of what to say. And then, licking his lips, fierce confusion shooting through his eyes… Legolas laughed.

Kris didn’t know what to do. Instantly she was terrified. She couldn’t acknowledge why. No, she _wouldn’t_ acknowledge why. She desperately put the right expression on her face: a happy, flippant smile.

“… thank you?”

She panted, forcing a brilliant grin. “You’re welcome.”

Legolas stared at her. Instantly, the fun sapped out of him and he was left feeling…dizzy. He was missing something; he had to be. “I… ah, what does it mean?”

Kristy’s eyes went icy. Oh God _,_ ‘what does it mean’? Why would he ask that? What had she been _thinking_? No, this couldn’t be happening. It was like a nightmare.

“W-what?” she said stupidly.

Uncertainty flickered through Legolas and he leaned back on his arms. “…what does it mean?” he glanced over her face.

“Oh…” she instantly grappled for words. It wasn’t too late. He thought she wanted to _tell_ him something. There was still time to save herself, if she acted fast enough. “Um, it means that-that I-” Kristy stumbled on the word. _Think of something to say._ Say it. Say it! “…like you. I mean, that’s w-what people do in my family, like to brothers. It’s a compliment.”

A slow moment passed.

“You consider me as … family?” he asked carefully.

Kristy’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Um…yes?”

And then, a smile spread gradually over Legolas’ face. It was another step, he realized. _How could have he thought her jealous over Tauriel?_ She was such a friend to him. She was welcoming him as family!

“I believe I like the sound of that.” He said with a grin. “I mean to say, I thought I had come to understand all of your strange English customs. I did not know this.”

“Well,” she coughed in gagging relief, shuffling off the bed. She back-stepped and almost tipped the lamp over, but she managed to right it. “I didn’t ei- … I mean, I-I didn’t think to tell you about it, either.”

“You think of me as _family_?” he asked in a louder whisper, hardly able to believe it. He crawled off the bed after her.

Now that he thought of it, Legolas had not put Kristy anywhere. She was friend, confidant, soothing place where he could come at times…if he was lucky. Sometimes she was fire that burned and cut him down, too. But that was only when they fought.

“Yeah.” she shrugged, suddenly so conscious of every look, every expression that crossed her face. She wanted to hide, turn away. But if she ran now he’d ask why!

Why? Why _did_ she do it? It was perfectly innocent fun. _Why did she have to ruin it?_ Did she think she would never get the chance again? Was she satisfied? Kristy almost gave a cynical laugh, even as she tried to keep from looking at Legolas’ face.

_Yeah, satisfied_ …like the time Legolas was rolling drunk in the bar and kissed her. Or the morning after when she was so hung-over, she barely even remembered it. Things weren’t the same between them for days after that…

“And,” he continued carefully, putting the pieces together, “…and this is your affection to family.”

“Heck, I… yeah,” she glanced down and up, writhing under his eyes and twisting her hands. “Yes, it is. But you know, it’s nothing. I didn’t really mean anything by it-”

“No, Kristine. Let me accept this.” he interrupted, “please…sister in heart.”

Kris didn’t think it could get worse. Her heart hammered in her ribs and she almost pushed him back. But she didn’t… And it did. Oh, it really did get worse. _Sister?_ That’s what he wanted her to be?

“Do not be embarrassed.” He insisted, watching her back away. Legolas hesitated as she leaned away, but he couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity. Besides, he liked the idea…kind of. There was no tension between friends and family…or between lover. It was a strange thought: Kristy, family. But maybe oh, so right.

“I am flattered and grateful. Thank you.” he reached up and touched her cheek. Kris almost flinched at it, but he didn’t drop away. It was a warm, affectionate touch…

“Thank you.”

**. . .**

 

“Okay… where to first?” Kris slammed the door shut and punched the car speakers on.

Katy Perry filled the car with a pounding beat that made every ear flinch…and Estel quickly turned it down. Tauriel was being meticulously cared for in the back seat by a certain blonde ‘brother’, and he glanced at her from the passenger side.

“Is anything wrong, Kristine?” Estel asked in careful Westron.

“Absolutely not.” She flashed a brilliant smile. “Why would anything be wrong?”

Estel chose not to answer.

So they drove out onto the city streets. They had shopping to do, not only clothes and things for Tauriel and Estel, but Kris decided on Christmas shopping too. It didn’t feel much like Christmas. But after all, why should she let _him_ ruin it for her? Any of them, really? Besides, it might make her feel better.

“Look, Tauriel…” Legolas murmured from the back. Kristy tried to ignore them, even as the massive steel and glass monuments filled the windows and blocked out the sky. Traffic moved in a single colorful body in the four-lane street, a mass of faces, fumes, and crisp morning air.

“The buildings are called skyscrapers. The moving beasts of steel, see them? They are just as we are, just a machine, nothing to fear. They are transportation, like a horseless carriage. That is all.”

“Where are the trees?” she muttered in response, donning Kristy’s coat and pressed against the window. Her auburn hair spilled in long twists down her back, tangling in the furry hood.

“There are few trees, sadly.” He answered, but then, his fingers reached for her hand and she didn’t pull away. Kris glanced back; she didn’t respond at all, actually. She was busy staring out the windows with a fascinated, suspicious glare. “But there is beauty here, still.” Legolas insisted. “It is not all bad.”

Then, Legolas switched to Sindarin and she couldn’t understand them anymore. Kristy stared ahead into traffic.

“Amazing how polite he is, huh?” she muttered with a smile, pulling into a supermall’s parking lot. It was filled to bursting, and she had to park almost a block away: Christmas Eve for you.

“Aragorn…?”

Estel looked into nowhere with dark, solemn eyes. He watched Kristy’s hard, jerking movements as she drove and he didn’t like it. There was some kind of falling out between those two, and they couldn’t afford to have any divisions…not now.

But he said nothing.

“The least he could do is talk so we can all understand.” She muttered.

“- Ah…look!” Legolas suddenly started up his commentary again, and he was back to Westron. “This world’s version of a market. You remember them, don’t you?”

Tauriel scrunched dark brows at him. “Of course I remember. It is just…certain things, I cannot seem to hold onto.” she brushed him off and struggled with the seatbelt, frustrated. “I cannot seem to _grasp_ them.”

“I know what it feels like.”

Kris got out of the car, pretending not to listen.

“But you remember me?” Legolas pressed.

At that, Tauriel’s grimace eased a little, and she smiled an almost imperceptible, amused smile. “I do not forget friends so easily as that, mellón nin.”

Kristy slammed the door shut. Hard.

“And I have a theory about-”

Legolas blinked, glancing at the hit with a start, before slowly turning back to Tauriel. He helped her manage the lock and the door-release, before stepping out into the brisk, windy air. Snow was flying and fluttering in fat, crisp flakes from the sky.

“You are younger than I. Do you not see? It is near impossible for these weak human bodies to comprehend what we have seen. It is simply too much for them.”

Kris smiled sarcastically at his back. _Well, thanks so much for making that so clear._ Aragorn walked closer, a dangerous, warning look in his gray eyes. She bit her tongue.

“You have less to remember, and so it is easier for you.” he continued, oblivious. “Perhaps you will soon have all your memory back.”

Tauriel nodded, stepping out onto the pavement with her green eyes sharp in the white light. “Perhaps so.” She glanced warily from passerby to passerby, not missing a single curious look.

“Try to act normal, huh?” Kristy looked between them, sticking her hands in her pockets. “And don’t do anything stupid,” she almost turned away, but not quite. Kris glanced at Legolas. “Especially you.”

With that, she walked away.

The captain didn’t like the look of the clothes she was given, Kris knew. She wore dark, tight jeans with her own boots. But Kristy just couldn’t shake the feeling that she would still stand out. Maybe it was the fierce, silent glare in her eyes. Maybe it was the twisting locks of hair pulled tight from her face or her sharply cut jaw; she didn’t know.

“Tauriel…” Kristy said in careful Westron, walking across the parking lot. She made sure to get the words right. An uncomfortable feeling tingled in her belly at addressing the woman directly, but it couldn’t be helped. “Try to keep your eyes down, please.”

She snapped her gaze to Kris, drawing to a halt. “What?”

“You know what I mean,” Kristy glanced over, suddenly unsure. “Don’t look people in the eyes. Keep your head down. Act _normal_.”

Tauriel just stared at her in a frozen, steely way.

“I…I, _you_ know.” She looked from Legolas’ dark, disapproving glance to her equally cold stare. Kris’ pulse suddenly skipped. “You know what I mean. I just want you to normalize yourself a little.”

“Normalize…” she repeated, slowly leaning back. “How do you mean?”

Kris let the wind buffet her hair back and forth. Layers frolicked in her face and she tried to think of a way to say ‘Slouch. Mumble. Shuffle.’ without saying it. But then, glancing at the fierce, green eyes of the captain, Kristy looked straight at Legolas instead.

“You know what I mean. _You_ explain to her.”

With that, Kristy stalked off toward the glass doors.

Legolas stared after an instant, narrowing his eyes…before glancing to Aragorn. “What is wrong with her?”

Estel cast his eyes sidelong, looking between the silent eyes of Tauriel close to the prince’s side…and then Legolas’ dark, confused ones. Estel just shook his head and walked away.

It was amazing, really, Kristy thought. Despite the fear, the chaos and terror, Christmas was Christmas. Shining wreathes lined the streets and garlands ran up downtown streetlights. The stores were filled in glitter, tinsel and holiday music. Little children dressed up as elves raced over the ground floor, and people were everywhere…faces, busy eyes and the smell of leather, rubber and plastic filled her senses.

“Manwe…”

Kristy heard Tauriel’s quiet exclamation, and she staggered back into Legolas. Escalators rattled down from the upper floors and she stared, wide-eyed.

“Where do they all _go_?” she gasped.

Legolas walked past with hardly a second glance. “I know not. Perhaps a room beneath.”

“But what room could hold so many stairs down there?” she gasped.

“They’re on a track, genius.” Kristy snapped. She immediately regretted her words though and glanced an apology. Aragorn’s silent, flicking stare wasn’t helping any. “They go round and round.” She muttered quieter.

“Do not mind her.” Legolas said in Sindarin. “There is something wrong with her.”

Tauriel pressed her mouth closed tight. “I see that.”

Of the group… Estel was the quietest.

The Dunedain’s face was an emotionless mask, but Kristy didn’t need that. She knew what he was thinking. He was planning a way to get back home; they didn’t belong here. Legolas was too busy keeping Tauriel by his side, explaining every flashing light, bleep and song playing over the sound-system to notice.

Thankfully the mall was crowded beyond belief. No one heard his strange talking. Kristy couldn’t seem to find what she was looking for, and they twisted and turned for what seemed like hours before finding what she needed. It was a women’s clothing store, filled to bursting with racks, shelves, models of clothes.

“So…” Kris said inside the store. “I know you have your weapons from Middle Earth. But you need other things, too: especially her.”

Aragorn glanced down.

“…Tauriel.” she corrected with a smile. She saw the woman and Legolas. Tauriel was in the threshold of the dressing room trying to figure out how it went _ding_ every time she passed through it. Legolas was just watching, amused.

“I don’t want a fight going down right in the middle of Macy’s though.” Kristy looked up, grimacing. “What can I get her to let me _buy_?”

“I should think Tauriel knows the gravity of our situation.” Estel replied, just as quiet. But there was a hint of a smile on his lips. He leaned down a little, replying very seriously. “I think the captain’s biggest worry will not be what she is wearing.”

Kristy blinked. …And suddenly, she felt very small. Somehow, she was expecting the captain to protest about something like that. “Oh.”

So that’s where Kris found herself three hours later. Surprisingly, Tauriel did not have an apoplectic attack at the women’s clothes, underwear models…nothing. She was looking forward to a reaction like Legolas’, when he first arrived. But it didn’t come. And it grated on Kristy’s nerves even more.

Tauriel came out of the dressing room for the last time. The musical notes every time she stepped back and forth were irritating, too. Everything she did seemed to be the opposite of what Kris wanted, but she refused to say anything.

“Thank you, Kristine.” The captain said once she did, sealing her coat up. Kristy glanced over, dropping clothes into shopping bags. “I appreciate your aide in this.”

“You’re welcome.”

A few awkward moments passed. Kristy shuffled on her feet, pretending to fold clothes by her. And after it was passed, Tauriel spoke up again. It was the first time the captain actually addressed her…alone, at least.

“You lived alone before this, then?” She glanced at Kris with cool, calculating eyes.

It was how she looked at everything…sharp, focused, like she didn’t miss a thing. It unnerved Kristy so much that she just glanced over, blinked and looked away again. “I did…before Legolas.”

“He rescued you then, in a sense.” A tiny smile pulled at her lips.

“Rescued?” Kris scoffed. _Was that really the word she used?_ “More like ‘ruined’.”

“Ah,” she laughed again, a tiny chuckle in her throat. “I see. Why have you not married, then?”

Kris choked. “E-excuse me?”

Tauriel glanced over, as if it was just a simple, quiet statement like anything else. Having the captain talk at all was a shock in itself, enough to turn Kristy into a flushing, agitated idiot. Kristy dropped a pair of jeans and hurried to pick them up, stuffing them into the bag.

“I merely thought you meant ‘ruined’ by that you’ve experienced what it is like to live not alone. And you prefer it.”

“Yeah, w-well…” Kris managed, almost a croak. “Not really.”

“Were you not lonely before, then?”

It took a minute. Kristy stared at her hands, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand. But then, she lifted her chin, trying not to look at Tauriel as she said. “I find I prefer living alone. I don’t have to deal with anyone else, that way. I only need myself; I only _want_ myself. And as soon as I _can_ again, I will. All I need is my dog.”

Tauriel smiled.

Kris wanted to say something more, anything. She almost did, too.

Kristy wanted to ask Tauriel why she came here in the first place, how she had the unabashed gall to ask such a thing, how she just _happened_ to be in Lorien when Legolas needed her… Or who the hell she was!

Legolas and Aragorn were deep in discussion across the store, something obviously not meant for her ears. But she didn’t want to take the chance on Legolas hearing her. Kris couldn’t handle that. And besides, the fiery-haired captain could probably break her in half.

It was a disturbing thought…

“- What now?” Legolas suddenly came up from behind, startling her. “Lunch?”

Kristy almost laughed. It came out more of a snort.

Tauriel glanced his way. “It is not yet noon, if that time-telling device you showed me is right.”

“So?” he replied brightly, taking the bag she stooped to pick up. “I am hungry…What of you?”

Aragorn appeared at his side, looking disturbed about something. Still, he just nodded. “I could eat.”

“Fine.” Kristy shrugged, snatching the bag from Legolas’ hand. No protest reached her ears. So then, she smiled. “Let me check this out while you go to the food court. Meet you there.”

It was then that she instantly turned and disappeared in the racks of clothes. Legolas just stared after her, hands empty…and wondering why the smile she gave made him shiver. It was like she was angry with him. But she wasn’t. She’d kissed him this morning. They’d practically adopted each other as _family_! What happened since then? Had he done something wrong?

“- Are we going?” Tauriel asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Legolas just stared at Kristy’s disappearing form a moment longer, empty and feeling darkened, hollow…before taking a sharp breath. “Yes. Yes, of course. Follow me.”

So that’s where Legolas found himself half an hour later. Tauriel was picking disdainfully at the greasy, spicy food in front of her, eyeing every single passerby with equal suspicion. Estel was less picky… Of course he had to be. After all, the man was used to his _own_ cooking. The thought made Legolas appreciate his meal more: Aragorn’s soup tended to taste like stewed dandelions and burnt rubber bands.

“Where is Kristy?” he asked, glancing around. “She has taken too long. Should we find her?”

“No.” Estel answered firmly, for probably the fifth time. “Do you want her upset with you…again?”

“But what if she-”

“ _No._ ”

Legolas sighed. “That woman is directionally challenged, in case you had not noticed by now, my friend. She could not find her way out of a closet.”

“She’ll find her way here.” Estel insisted. “Just be patient.”

And suddenly, as if on cue… Legolas glanced up. Coming down an escalator, shrouded in her hair and a blur of unfamiliar faces, Kristy stared at the steps as she sunk earthward, closer to their level of the court.

_Finally._ He glanced away and back again. Legolas expected to greet her with a forced smile. He swallowed a bite of food and practiced it. She would sit down in the seat opposite, he decided. There would be -

And then… a shout broke out in the food court.

“ _Kris_?”

Legolas looked up from his drink, glancing around for the source. A tall man got up out of a table. Legolas stared. He was tall…tall and broad. Music and clattering plates filled the mall food court, but Legolas knew what he heard... so did Kristy.

She glanced up.

_“Krissy_?” the man gaped at her, eyes wide.

Legolas blinked. _Krissy?_ Who was this man to call her that? And why did she smile like that?

“Roger?” her face broke out into a grin. And suddenly, the escalator wasn’t moving fast enough. She pushed people aside and ran down, before leaping and her boots hit the floor. She staggered on her heels and Rog was already upon her.

Legolas sat bolt upright. He was hugging her!

“It’s been… I-I don’t know _how_ long. What happened to you?! What on earth are you _doing_ here?”

Roger was incoherent. They were laughing though; he could tell it. Legolas stared at the shirt the man was wearing. It was…straining _._ That man was filling the shirt to bursting. He was twice the size of Kristy…and he was crushing her in his arms, whirling her in a violent circle. An insignia was plastered across his muscled back and Legolas felt something simmer in his chest, a hot fume that he didn’t understand.

Aragorn shifted around in his seat. Legolas’ eyes were wide and steely.

“Legolas…?” he nudged the elf. “What is wrong with you?”

Legolas didn’t answer. He just narrowed his eyes a fraction.

Estel turned in his seat, scanning the cafeteria. And then, he made the connection. “Ah…I see.”

Kristy was a blur of blonde and brown, swept across the court to a table full of men. They all wore the same shirts though… Aragorn squinted, suddenly alert. Short sleeves, dark camouflage green, tags made out of metal dangled on their chests. Kristy was heading straight for them.

“I haven’t seen you since you went overseas. Why are you back here? Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

“We were recalled for these…” Rog glanced around, “these _storms_ ; you know what I mean. God, I can’t believe you’re here!” he shook his head, hair cropped so short white skull showed on the sides. “I hope you’re staying safe, Krissy. These things have been dangerous. Why are you still here?”

Kris laughed. “Yeah…I know. Tell me about it.”

“Listen, these are my buddies.” He said eagerly. “This is PFC Tyler, PFC First Class Jay-”

And Aragorn shifted, turning his face away.

“Legolas, those are soldiers.” Aragorn muttered quietly. They had guns…the weapons like Kristine used, concealed under the table and tucked into their cargo pants. But they were, and it sent a spasm of nervousness through his belly. He shifted in his seat. “Legolas…I cannot speak her tongue. You can.”

The elf was sitting ram-rod straight in his chair.

“ _Legolas,_ ” Aragorn insisted, making him snap his eyes up. He didn’t say it, but his eyes did. _Get her away from them._

Legolas whipped his head from Aragorn’s fierce gray eyes, to the five out-of-uniform soldiers, before getting up so fast his legs hit the table and his chair skid out.

“Gladly.” He growled.

. . .

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and reviewing if you have the time. :)) Have a wonderful weekend please!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Augh! Skipped the last update time! So sorry. And your _explanation_ is... I wrote a story for Teitho, which took most of my spare time. All week (and probably until Christmas) I’ll be helping paint and refurbish a friend’s apartment so she can move in, which took the rest. **

**And in _addition_ to that, I have a cold. :( *looks around shamelessly for sympathy*…still mad at me? **

**REMdream: Ha ha! Jealousy’s not so petty when the shoe’s on the other foot, is it? Legolas has some problems, if you haven’t noticed that by now, lol. He also has some issues with empathy. That’s not all his fault though… Without their _fea_ to help him, he has a hard time telling what people are really feeling. **

**Guest: And worse, Legolas seems to believe it! Friend zone is bad enough, without getting ‘brother’ in there.**

**Me and Not You: Legolas definitely might experience some bi military men a little later, but for now, they have a bit more under the rug. ;)**

**Dreamer: I just love those Portuguese phrases! I’m such a sucker.**

. . .

" _There's only one person who needs a glass of water oftener than a small child tucked in for the night, and that's a writer sitting down to write." -Mignon McLaughlin_

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There was half a food court between Kris and Legolas.

Legolas shoved a chair aside, letting it skid across the floor. Kristy was under this ‘Rogers’ arm, wrapped around his waist and shaking hands with the tableful of marines. He was going to get her away from them.

And at the sound of his boot steps striding over, Kris looked up. Legolas came up behind. “Hey, I-”

“Kristine.” He interrupted, quiet and cool. His eyes were icy blue, like water freezing over.

She froze. Roger started in surprise at the newcomer, an arm still around her shoulders. Then, he looked him up and down. Legolas lifted his chin in response, suddenly feeling acutely aware of his own leanness. The man wasn’t any taller, but he was a solid mass of bulk muscle… And he had a gun concealed in his pants. Legolas was fully aware of it…and he suddenly wished he had his knives.

Legolas smiled tersely. “Nothing is the matter.” He replied, turning to the Marine. “Kristine regrets that she must leave your company so soon.”

“Leave?” Rog glanced from Kristy’s wide, shocked eyes to Legolas’ icy blue ones, before half-laughing. “I don’t see her leaving.”

“Yeah, I don’t see me leaving either.” She raised both eyebrows at him.

Legolas shot her a don’t-mess-with-me look, before angling his body to the Marine. “Kristine is with me.” He said very calmly. “And she’d like to return to our table…now.”

Kris hissed a sharp breath through her teeth, but didn’t protest.

Roger did.

“Back off, pal.” He glanced between the man and Kristy under his arm. She suddenly had an arm around his waist…a very comfortable arm. It made Legolas’ nose flare and his eyes flashed.

“Kristine.” He hissed, before saying in Westron. “What are you doing? These are _soldiers_.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” She snapped back in English. “What business is it of yours?”

“It’s my business plenty!” he spluttered, inwardly cursing himself for answering so stupidly.

The air instantly charged with tension, like a thunderhead. And she mimicked Roger with an irritated glare. “Back off, pal. Rog is quite capable of defending himself.”

He grinned at the compliment, before enveloping her in a side hug. “You always were so cute mad, Krissy.”

She glanced down and let him hug her, smirking shyly.

Legolas almost gagged. Who was he to come in and do this? What was _wrong_ with the fool?

“Hey…this guy bothering you?” came a voice from behind Legolas, interrupting his furious train of thought. He turned, eyes cold, to find a heavy set, muscular body behind him. This one was a little shorter, but no less brawny.

Kristy glanced between them, chewing the inside of her mouth. “No...” she relented. “Just being an arse…as usual.”

Roger glanced around his friends, who were getting slowly up out of their seats. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas caught Estel tensing, half-rising up out of his chair across the cafeteria. Tauriel was looking between them, confused and wary.

“Actually, we were just skipping here, Kris.” Roger said, keeping eye contact with Legolas the whole time. And then, he half-amused smile at the obvious support his friends gave. “We’re on leave until tomorrow, ten o’clock. Wanna come along?”

“I…” She wouldn’t meet Legolas’ eyes, but she shrunk a little. “I’m sorry, Rog. I’d like to. But Le-…um, Luke is right. I should be getting back.”

And Roger stiffened. “Luke?”

Kristy nodded.

Staring across the food court, Estel caught the shift in their stances. They edged away, fingered their knuckles into fists. “Luke…huh?” Rog glanced him up and down, as if looking for something.

“Luke Smith.”

_Careful, Legolas._ Aragorn stared at his friend, willing him to loosen his stance, unclench his fists.

“So… this guy’s your boyfriend?” Roger pressed, still unwilling to let her out of his hold.

“What? No!” she protested. “I-I mean…no, he’s not. Just a friend.”

“Good.” Roger smiled, “…then you can come check out the local clubs with us, right?”

“I _said_ ,” Legolas snapped, “she is not leaving with you. Haven’t I made that clear?”

“Oh sure, but she hasn’t.”

“She does as I say!”

Aragorn almost put his head in his hands. Legolas was biting. He was fearful and angry, yes…but oh so foolish. This couldn’t end good.

“ _Oh_?” Kristy gasped. “Oh _really_?” she glared at him openly. “Actually _I_ said I was leaving, _Mr._ Smith. But I think I’m changing my mind!”

“You can’t do that.” Legolas insisted in Westron. He grimaced, “ _Look_ at them, Kristine. They are soldiers. Why are they here? What are the chances of you meeting? Stay away from them, I tell you!”

“What is he talking about?” One muttered.

“Portuguese.” Kris explained, trying to keep her breathing down. “And he’s talking nonsense. Honestly, I have no idea.” She shifted back into Roger’s chest, trying to avoid looking at Legolas’ wide, fuming reaction. It wasn’t working. Blood rushed to her face and she flushed.

“Krissy…” Roger coaxed, sharing a look with another of the marines, before shifting back and taking her with him. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Kristine.” Legolas countered, “Come with me. Please.”

She looked between them, trembling at first…unsure. But one more look at Legolas’ fierce, insistent expression, her eyes flashed. She stared at him defiantly.

“Kristy-”

Instantly, she accepted the hand Roger offered and let him pull away.

“See you, pal.”

“Kristine!” Legolas protested. And something sick hit his belly, a terrible feeling…warning, danger as they walked away. “Kristy, _please._ ” He pleaded in Westron, willing her to listen to him just this once.

And she stopped, glanced back. Legolas widened his eyes, staring at her, the fluffy hood enveloping her tangles of hair, clinging jeans tucked into wedge-heeled boots. She couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t!

And then, to his relief and wounded pride, she broke away from Roger and walked back to him. The Marine blinked in surprise. Legolas shot him a smug look, before he lifted a hand in invitation, imagining her accepting it, leaving those men, letting him pull her back.

“Legolas?” She said as she strode toward him.

And then, he saw her eyes still flashed; her belligerent walk was a strut. Legolas realized it with a pit of horror in chest. Kris stopped just inches from his face, yanked something out of her pocket, and slapped it into his offered hand.

Legolas looked down in surprise.

“Money for a _cab_. Take care of Estel and precious Tauriel.” She whispered. Kristy was about to turn away, and then…she paused and dropped her voice even more. “Oh, and in case you hadn’t figured it out yet… you _can’t_ tell me what to do.”

With that, Kris spun on her heel, tossed her head and strode away.

Legolas was left gaping.

“Yay, Kris!” Roger hooted and slapped hands with another Marine. “Way to go!”

Kristy welcomed his praise with a grin, and ducked under his offered arm. She walked in step with him, enveloped in camouflage green, short-shaved hair, recreation combat-boots, and comradeship.

Half the food court was watching.

And slowly, from his seat, Estel glanced around. Legolas was still staring in stunned shock. Aragorn got out of his chair and carefully edged over. Beside him, Legolas gaping, there was something disturbing, and more than a little amusing at the expression.

“So…” Aragorn murmured dryly, watching Legolas clamp his mouth into a thin, tight line. “…that was nicely handled.”

And he shot him a look of death. “Save it, Ranger.”

Aragorn laughed even as a thread of worry snaked through his chest…But whether it was at Legolas’ inane threat or Kristy’s disappearing form, he wasn’t sure.

. . . . . .

_Tick…tock…tick…_

Waiting. Endless waiting. Fury.

_Tock…tick…tock…_

They didn’t need the clock this time. Legolas counted the seconds, the minutes, the hours. Why wasn’t she here? Why didn’t she come back?

_Tick…tock…tick_

Kristy wasn’t home yet. She wasn’t anywhere! It was three o’clock in the morning! Legolas used the home phone to call her cell at midnight, and it buzzed uselessly in the corner of her rumpled bed. She forgot it: typical Kristy. He couldn’t contact her. He couldn’t find her.

And then, Aragorn spoke up from the couch. “She will not return any faster with you wearing a _track_ in the carpet.”

Legolas ignored him.

She had no right to do this. It was maddening. _Infuriating_!

She was…she was family. She’d said it herself. That meant he had certain claims on her. That meant he was duty bound to protect her…even if it weren’t _those_ men she’d run off with. And Marines, it had to be Marines. Why weren’t they casual friends, those small, pudgy ones he’d seen go into _Partha Lun_ , the shop she worked in?

Besides, hadn’t they looked at him oddly? Hadn’t they reacted minutely surprised at his very name, Luke Smith? Aragorn noticed it too; he said so. There was danger here. It was screaming in his gut, warning him to keep her away from them.

And suddenly, Legolas couldn’t stand it anymore.

“ _Why_ do you think they wanted her?” he demanded, spinning on his heel. He stared at the glow of Estel in the faint moonlight, and a dim lamp glowed in the kitchen. Everything else was dark, putridly and peacefully dark. It vacillated with his mood swings. “Do you think they’ll hurt her?” he hissed.

Estel leaned on the armrest, legs folded under him in the plush leather. He nursed a packet of pipeweed in his fingers. The embers glowed a little, lighting the ranger’s face, and he lifted keen gray eyes.

“Worrying helps nothing.” He said simply, in that calm voice of his.

“You said they reacted strangely.” Legolas insisted. His back was ram-rod straight, fidgeting with the loose white sleeves hanging from his wrists.

“Strangely,” He agreed. “Yes.”

“Dangerously?” Legolas pressed, and it only earned him a hard-earned sigh. Legolas turned away, frustrated and baffled. “Well, why did they _want_ her? What did they ask her out for in the first place?”

And for the first time, Aragorn smiled a little. “Do not be obtuse, my friend! Why do you think?”

Legolas didn’t answer.

So, the ranger did for him. “Kristine is a lively, interesting girl…” He glanced at Legolas’ expression, gauging it, hoping to alleviate it. The elf was staring blankly at the open bay window, thinking about it. “And her face is not what one would say… ugly, is she?”

Legolas almost snorted. But that was another rude habit he picked up here, and he refrained.

Estel removed the pipe from his teeth and felt a tiny laugh run down his spine, watching his friend. It _was_ late, true, and that disturbed him. But watching his calm, cool friend stress was something else entirely. In fact, it was hilarious.

“And her shape is not what most men would consider… _uncomely_ , is it?” Aragorn asked, suppressing a smile.

Legolas shot him a dark look, checked that Tauriel was safely in the bedroom with the door shut, out of earshot, and he shook his head. “No.”

Legolas remembered what she looked like. Yes… And not only that, but the clothes she wore. Yes, that _could_ be. Aragorn could be right. They were simple usually: jeans…a dark colored top, sometimes a purse slung across her breasts... But they were always so perfectly tight. Scandalous, he thought when first coming here. _But now…_

“No,” he muttered again, reluctantly. “She’s not unattractive.”

It was hard picturing a man that would think so…at least one who liked women.

“And do you have your answer?” Estel pressed.

Legolas didn’t answer.

“Well?”

Legolas spun around, distressed. “But Estel! Something was wrong. I _know_ there was. Tell me again. You felt it too!”

Aragorn sighed, emptying the ashes from his pipe in a dish. He wanted to deny his friend, tell him it was the elf’s overactive imagination. But that would be a lie. Something did feel off with him. “I cannot deny that I felt…uncomfortable with them. But-”

“But nothing.” Legolas nodded in satisfaction. “So it is settled! She will not see them, or that _Roger_ again.”

Aragorn laughed outright. “You are mad!” At his blank, stupefied expression, Estel explain. “Did you learn nothing from that embarrassing, _useless_ exchange today? The harder you push her, demand, the more she’ll fight. Don’t you see? She’ll see them all the more, no matter how hard you try.”

“But…” Legolas looked away, trying to keep his breathing down. “But how will I stop her?”

“Certainly not _that_ way.” Aragorn relit his pipe, puffing a few times.

And Legolas shifted on his feet, reluctant. “Yes… she is stubborn.”

“Stubborn? Yes.” Estel agreed, and he wondered if he should mention the other word that came to mind. But he refrained. Whatever there was between him and Kristine, it should stay that way. He shouldn’t interfere… Probably.

And then, standing uncomfortably in silence, Legolas snapped his chin up. Before Estel could ask, the elf bolted upright and pressed himself to the window glass. He looked far down to the street, and his eyes flashed. “They are back!” he hissed, fogging the glass. And he dove for the door.

“Legolas-”

Legolas slammed the door shut behind him and bolted for the stairs, skidding around on the carpet. Then, he pressed himself to the wall, panting, waiting. He’d wait for them to come up, listen to what they had to say…and then thrash Roger within an inch of his life. Yes, the thought was satisfying.

Three o’clock in the morning! The man had no right!

A few agonizingly tense minutes went by, Legolas standing on the stairwell that twisted round and round for twenty-five flights. It went up another three floors, and Legolas stood behind these, waiting for the elevator to arrive. The dial lit up, showing the lift coming up the fifth…twelfth…twentieth and-

_…And voices._

Legolas’ breath hitched. It was Kristy.

“- and I do _not_ think stairs have a place in modern society.” She was saying as the lift doors opened. “ _M-much_ too tiring.”

“Course not.” Roger was agreeing.

Legolas scowled, about to step out…but he hesitated, wanting to listen.

“And elevators must work at _all_ times, and be s-swifty, too.” She continued

_My God, she’s drunk_! He thought in horror.

Legolas leaned over slightly, glancing around the wall. Roger was alone with her, supporting her as she walked unsteadily down the carpeted hall, dragging her coat on the floor. And suddenly, she staggered on a heel and nearly fell over, if not for Roger catching her. He broke out in hoarse laughter.

“Ah, Krissy…better be careful. The floor has it out for you tonight! This is the third time tonight.”

Kristy righted herself, swaying a little, and then pointed at the carpet. “Bad floor.”

Roger laughed again, and Legolas glowered. This was infuriating.

“Ssh!” she hissed, “He’ll _hear_ you.”

“Who’s ‘he’?” Roger asked. Legolas couldn’t’ be sure, but it seemed Roger slowed a little, as they neared the apartment door.

“Friend you met today…that he. He’s scary when he’s mad, you know.”

Roger nodded conspiringly. “You wouldn’t want to tell me more about this…friend, would you?”

Kristy apparently thought about it. “Nah. He’s boring.” She looked up woefully. “And mean.”

Legolas frowned.

“ _Mean_?” Roger feigned horror, coming to a stop outside her door, and he steadied the woman against the wall. Legolas watched them around the haze of a wall too close to his eyes. The man grinned and exaggerated his movements, swaying uneasily but…but he wasn’t intoxicated.

Legolas could tell it, scrutinizing his every move. The Marine’s eyes were focused, not like Kristy’s. He put his hands on the wall beside her, effectively pinning her there, and it wasn’t the move of a sloppy, drunken man.

“Why are you friends with a mean man?” he whispered close to her face.

Kristy glanced down, lifting an unsteady hand to finger his chest. The hall lights were dim, set for night time, and he caught a blush biting at her cheeks. But she was uncomfortable; Legolas could tell that. Kristy was only perfectly still when she was afraid to move.

“B-because I -” she bit down on the inside of her mouth. It drew her lower lip in, and it was a sign she was upset. “I don’t know.”

“Is he…from around here?” Rog asked quietly, fingering Kris’ bare shoulder with a dark, calloused finger.

Legolas wanted to slap it off. And he wanted to do it now. But he didn’t. _Why did the man ask this?_ Why wasn’t he making a move toward Kristy, so Legolas could stalk down the hall and rescue her from him?

And a thought struck him. Maybe she didn’t want to be rescued.

“He’s um…” Kristy tried to think. She tried hard, but she ended up mumbling. “I don’t know. I think he’s from o-overseas, maybe.”

“But sometimes it feels a lot farther than that, doesn’t it…?” Rog murmured sympathetically.

Kristy nodded.

The marine edged closer, very quietly, and he pushed his hips forward. The man had her against the wall, and as he touched her, traced her collarbone with his fingers…tilted her chin back.

_Sweet Eru…_ he’s going to kiss her!

Legolas chose to make his entrance. He carefully slipped across the hall so it looked like he was coming up instead of down the stairs. Then, he made a show of stomping heavily up the last carpeted step so they heard him coming. Then, when he was striding down the hall, Kristy looked up with utter shock.

“Le-…Luke!”

“Kristine.” He murmured cordially in response. Legolas noticed there were several inches between the two of them now. _Good._ For Roger, he offered a narrowed-eyed stare. “Having fun, are we?”

Roger raised an eyebrow, shifting in his boots, but removed his hand from the wall so Kris could breathe. “Until a moment ago…”

“Well, the fun is over.” Legolas said.

“Luke!” Kris gasped, eyes blazing.

“Be quiet, Kristine.” He commanded, and she obediently snapped her mouth shut. “Get out of here, Roger.” He then said, walking forward so close that his body stood between his and Kristy’s.

“I must say…I don’t think I’ll be doing that, friend.” He glanced Legolas up and down. But there was fear in his eyes, very deep down…or wariness. Legolas couldn’t tell without a _fea_ to go by, but it didn’t matter. Legolas used it.

“If you want even one bone in your body unbroken by tomorrow morning…I suggest you leave now.”

“Legolas!” she protested, and it was ignored.

Roger focused somewhere under Legolas’ eyes, broad shoulders shrugged into a short, camouflage coat, and he asked quietly. “Is that a threat?”

The elf tilted his head. “If that is how you see it.”

And suddenly, Kristy smacked Legolas’ back, trying to shove him aside. “Leave him alone!” But with a sweep of his arm, he held her back and pushed her gently to the wall, pinning her there. In her inebriated state, she couldn’t even complain.

“It is time Kristine went to bed.” He said firmly. “ _Alone_.”

And Roger stepped closer, pressing his lips together. It surprised Legolas; he thought he’d back down. “Just what do you want, anyway?” Roger demanded, but he edged back again at the fierce gleam in Legolas’ eyes. “It’s three o’clock in the morning. What the hell are you doing here?”

“He lives here!” Kristy spoke up, very unhelpfully.

Roger’s eyes widened.

“In the building…with a friend.” Legolas corrected quickly. “And I have this strange desire to keep scum like you from injuring, wounding, or otherwise taking advantage of _intoxicated_ neighbors of mine.” And he pointed at him. “So leave!”

Roger jolted back, one boot behind the other. “I…I’ll see you, Kris.” He waved briefly. “Get some sleep. Your crazy boyfriend’s right about that, at least.”

And with that, he was marching away down the hall toward the elevator. Legolas waited until the lift doors closed, rigid and strung tight as a bowstring…before sighing in relief.

_At least that was over._

He’d fought _so_ hard not to grab the marine’s coat and shake him! But that wouldn’t help anything. He realized that now. It would just draw even more attention to himself, and start a fight. Estel wouldn’t be pleased, and in the end, neither would he.

And then…a voice whispered venomously. “You…”

Legolas froze. _Oh, no._

“You egotistical, narcissistic, self-important, bossy _bastard_!” she spat.

Legolas whirled around, taking a sharp breath through his teeth.

“How _dare_ you?” she spluttered in fury.

“I just saved you.” he protested.

“ _Saved_ me? From who, Roger? I wanna be s-saved from you, you creep!”

And suddenly, Kristy didn’t look so drunk anymore. Anger lit the fuse and it was burning the alcohol away. She stormed forward, aiming to hit him…hard, but Legolas stepped back and she face-planted.

Legolas blinked, eyes wide in surprise. She pushed up, rubbing her hurting elbows, and her nose was bleeding. “Argh…” she held her face, whimpering at the blood seeping into her hand.

“Good God, Kristy…” Legolas grimaced and got down on his knees. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

“ _M-me_?” she choked, sputtering. “ _You_ did it, y-you dirty bastard. Y-you -”

“Stop calling me that, you dirty mouthed little girl.” Legolas hauled her to her feet, and she immediately tipped backward. He barely managed to catch her, and then in the dim haul light, his back up against a wall…Legolas pulled her closer.

“Come here, Kristy.”

“L-let me go…” she mumbled, using his body to support herself, his hands grabbing her waist. And Kristy pushed on his chest, keeping her upper body from his. “Let me go!”

“If I do,” he warned. “you’ll fall again.”

“I don’t care!”

Legolas sighed, staring down at her, before letting go with a snap.

And she promptly fell on her derriere.

“See?”

Kristy lifted her head sourly, glowering at him. “You _pushed_ me.”

. . . . . .

Legolas looked out over the city a couple hours later, slowly rubbing his thumbs together…back…forth, back…

“I failed.” Legolas murmured softly, staring at his hands. “I thought I could…stop her, convince her.”

At his side, Aragorn stood like a shadow in the night, just as quiet.

“I was wrong.” He said even softer. “I thought she cared for what I thought, that she listened to me. I thought…we were passed this.”

A little while passed. Estel leaned on the balcony rail, sheltered under the eaves. The city noises were far away, distant…and subdued. The curfew ended at five o’clock, and it was not yet four-thirty. It made the city so much quieter than usual, almost peaceful…

And finally, looking out at the windy rooftops, breathing in the cold air, he replied. “She…is not thinking clearly, Legolas.”

“Well her response was very clear.” He glanced over. “’Stay out of my personal life, bastard’, I believe she said.”

“I doubt she meant it.”

Legolas scoffed, turning back to the cityscape a little more darkly.

“She was intoxicated, you know.”

Legolas nodded a little. “Another thing!” he half-laughed, pointing through the sliding balcony doors to where he knew Kristy was sound asleep. “I have seen that woman inebriated but _once_ in my stay here. She doesn’t drink _._ Yet one night with that man, and she can barely stand up.”

Aragorn nodded a little. “I know.”

“So what can I do about it?” Legolas grabbed the rail, beginning to pace again, up and down the small terrace. “She won’t listen to what I say.”

“True.”

“She wants to, for some reason _unfathomable_ to me, keep company with those men.”

“True.”

And Legolas paused, glancing back. He’d told Estel of what the Marine had asked her, inquired about him…what she answered him with. It disturbed the Ranger as much as him, and it was no question now that she should steer clear.

“So…perhaps _you_ should talk to her?” Legolas edged carefully.

Estel laughed. “She’d listen to me even less than you, my friend.” He shook his head slowly, creasing his brows. “No, this must be dealt with carefully.”

“By whom?”

“By you.”

Legolas scowled and turned away. “I do not know how.”

… And a few minutes passed, in which they felt the temperature drop a little. Legolas shrugged on a coat, before sliding down in the white wicker bench. He could still see the tops of the buildings as they glowed in the cold night. But it was a cold beauty. They blocked out the stars, transformed them into glowing dust straining for air to breathe.

“I must stop her.” Legolas said quietly, resolutely. Somewhere in a place deep down, he knew it. “I will.”

Estel turned slightly, resting a shoulder on the post. “She does care for you, you know.”

“She does us all…even Tauriel.” He muttered back.

Aragorn shifted, frowning. “That is not what I mean, and you know it.” And suddenly, the Ranger couldn’t stand this anymore. He took a deep, cold breath and turned his head, looking sharply at his friend. “Legolas, are you _blind_?”

Nothing.

“Legolas, she _cares_ for you, I tell you.”

Legolas snapped his chin up and warned. “Estel-”

“Do not bother denying it!” he held up a hand, cutting his friend off. “You know it. I know it…” and he dropped his voice. “The reason she is philandering with these…Marines, is because she desires _you._ And she cannot have you; she knows that.”

And there. He’d said it.

Estel glanced down, slowing his heartrate down. It was difficult, and perhaps not the best solution, but it had to be said.

Legolas was staring at him, gaping in utter shock. His mouth was open slightly, eyes wide. “Aragorn, I…” he stopped, unable to force the words out. “No!”

“You are deluding yourself, Legolas.” Estel said quieter, looking down, staring at the distant shape of an army truck passing on the street, twenty-five flights down. “You know it is true.”

And Legolas let his eyes sink, staring into nowhere… _Was he right?_ Was he really, truly right? He didn’t know.

Legolas scavenged through every memory he had, every touch, every look, every rush of blood in Kristy’s face. The fights, the tension, yes…the anger. And then, it all shifted together.

Estel held his arms, staring at the elf from the edge of his eyes. “…and not just your mind, my friend.”

Legolas blinked.

And then he leaned back, still silent…but mulling. He didn’t know why, but an almost inexorable smile tugged at his mouth. The insufferable little girl... _woman,_ he corrected. After all this time, three months of living with him, she goes and does this?

Somehow, it was a disturbing thought that Kristine could…desire. Legolas thought about it fiercely. She seemed so…unaware. _Was he right?_ Did she want him? The woman didn’t even _look_ at him more than in passing, studied no more of him than his face…and his hair. Legolas noticed and he thought it was the way she was…or he was simply uninteresting.

“I don’t want to do it.” Legolas mumbled finally, his train of thoughts shifting. Whether or not Aragorn was stating a simple fact, or not…he knew was he was going to do. “I don’t _want_ to do it to her.”

Estel didn’t reply.

“She will hate me for this.” he said anyway, not a guess, but a fact. She would; he knew it. When she discovered his plan, as she surely would eventually, she would hate him bitterly.

Still, Aragorn didn’t answer.

“But as long as she walks this path, we are all in danger.” Legolas said quietly, resolutely. “She has to be…distracted from them. We cannot let them pry into our matters, or discover we are here. It...it is for the best.”

Legolas looked up. “ _Isn’t_ it?”

Still, Estel didn’t answer. He just closed his eyes, resting his head wearily in one hand.

The elf looked down, setting his jaw hard. This was going to happen.

. . . . . . .

**A/N: And… that’s all! Half the next chapter is already written, though. Thanks for reading and as always, reviewing (if you don’t hate me for making you wait all this time, that is!) Remember the cold. *cough cough* -_- *cough***

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hello! Christmas is almost here. Yay! And this update is actually on time, finally.**

. . . .

_“What day is it?”_

_“It’s today,” squeaked Piglet._

_“My favorite day!” said Pooh._

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

“Okay, thanks!”

A tiny, dark-haired woman pulled the door shut with a bang, bag in hand. “Bye-bye!”

She watched her go with a plastered smile on her face. And the instant she was gone…Kristy dropped, cradling her head in her hands. It felt like someone pounded on her skull from all sides. No one should have to work Christmas Day! But Corby lost a lot of business through all this. Business was money. Money was the lifeblood of, well…everything. She had masses of work to do too, hangover or not. Paperwork. And it was better done here than at home, with… him.

Still, not too many people were out shopping. Maybe the army trucks trundling by had something to do with it, or maybe the hordes of citizens blocking up the roadways, trying to get out of the city. Shopping wasn’t on their minds, and Christmas wasn’t either.

Yet the ebbing stream of passersby didn’t ease up. A dull hum of traffic outside buzzed back and forth; noon passed to early eve. She was tired, exhausted even. Police cars screamed past outside and they set her nerves on edge, more than one ‘lawman’ having passed by ‘on the beat.’ Personally, she didn’t see how they could possibly find the poor lost souls from the portals like that, not if they could blend in as well as Legolas.

The thought made her frown… Legolas: arrogant, bull-headed elf.

Thinking about him never did good. She couldn’t stand it. And so…she wearily eyed the order-forms on the counter. Impossible. They made her think too much. It was the last thing she needed. So Kristy was crouched on her heels behind the counter, polishing glass when they came in.

“Hey, Kris!”

A short, plump woman barreled through the doorway, followed closely by a friend in bright pink.

“I said… hey! _”_

“Alice.” She said flatly, not a hint of exasperation in her voice. Kristy peered at her through the glass. “What are you doing here? Your shift isn’t until tomorrow, you know.”

“Yeah but Kris, listen…I forgot my bag again.”

“Is that it?”

Alice gasped, hand on her ample chest. “Aren’t you glad to _see_ me?” She strutted past, feigning hurt. Her friend waited on the doorframe, and the sound of coarse laughter echoed from the back room. “Cause I’m sure not glad to see _this_ place.”

“Alice, it’s barely three.” Kris resisted the urge to sigh. Alice staggered through the back, fumbling for her purse. “Don’t you take the three o’clock rule seriously?”

She laughed again, and Kris winced. Aspirin. Where was aspirin when you needed it?

“Today is a day to _celebrate,_ Kristy.”

“Why?” Kris stopped the sigh before it could morph into a groan. “What day _isn’t_ with you? You mean because it’s Christmas?”

Alice scoffed. She was a few years older, but quite a bit shorter under brunette, bobbing curls. “Haven’t you heard?” she came out, toting the bag.

“Heard what?”

“Corby!” Alice threw her purse up, as if it was obvious. “Hasn’t he come in yet? He’s going to go stay with his _sister_ for a whole…” She leaned close. “…blessed, _week_.”

And she blinked. “Why?”

Alice just shrugged. “The woo-woo storms round here have got the old toad pretty shook up. His house was up there, where they first hit you know. So now he’s out crying on his sister’s doorstep.”

_Sister._ Did that mean he was leaving?

“Hm,” she ran fingers through her hair, holding it a moment. “I guess I didn’t see that coming. What’s he doing with the store?”

She shrugged again. “Don’t know; he didn’t tell me.” She pulled the burly coat around her neck and got to the door, still upright, but slurring dramatically. “I guess he just doesn’t care to consult with the _part_ time help.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Pooh!”

And with that, Kris pointed at her. “You shouldn’t be driving.”

“She’s not!” The friend in pink said, Debbie, tossing a stray lock of hair from her eyes. “I am.”

Kristy stared at her, before smiling half-heartedly. _Figures._

And with a wave, they were leaving out the door. Her smile shriveled to nothing, watching them bundle into the car. Kris went back to polishing, spraying the glass with a bottle…but more slowly. _Leaving._

Did this mean she was out of work? Would he let her run the store instead?

Kris nearly scoffed. With Corby’s new girlfriend taking up so much of his time, she nearly did anyway. She wasn’t sure how long she mulled it over, tossed it back and forth in her head. But before she knew it…the chime rang and the door opened. _Dammit._ Kris scrubbed harder.

“Be there in a sec!” Kris said with a grimace. Why did she have to drink so much last night? Why did her head _hurt_ so much?

And then…something happened.

A face, familiar and clear peered at her through the glass. Kristy stared, frozen mid-stroke. Something, something she couldn’t name made her heart drop... It was Legolas.

“Legs... I,” she blinked, utterly stunned, before forcing her eyes to narrow. Her voice became very cool. “I-I mean, Legolas.”

He stared at her with silent, blue-gray and smiling eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she asked anyway. Home was two miles away. “How did you get here?”

His eyes flickered down and up, as if to blink. But he didn’t. “I walked.” He said simply, muffled by the glass.

“Oh.” She blinked. “Well, what do you want?”

And then, she slowly got to her feet. Legolas rose with her until they stood on opposite sides of the counter, facing each other. Kristy suddenly felt frustrated again. She looked over him as quick as she could, but her eyes wanted to linger. Legolas was wearing a dark jacket, pea coat more like, with his hands stuck deep in his pockets. Tousled hair, pale blonde and gleaming in the dusky light, soft, worn jeans hung off his hips in a--she glanced down--strangely casual… appealing way.

“Is something wrong?” she managed to force out. Her voice sounded like a stray squeak.

And he smiled lazily. “No...nothing. Just wanted to visit you.”

_Such a dramatic change from last night…_ Kris didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t even know if she should still be angry. _What happened last night?_ Why is he so relaxed, so easy now, nonchalant and…and almost, sexy?

Kristy looked away furiously, gripping the glass case in her hands so her knuckles turned white. Stupid thoughts. Useless. “If there is nothing you want then, Mr. Luke Smith,” she used the name on the hospital entry like a weapon. “I have work to do.”

“Work…hm. Anything I can help you with?”

Kris frowned. “Not unless you know how to fill out a stack of order forms as high as you are.”

And he smiled again, showing a row of gleaming white teeth. “Lead the way.”

“I’m not letting you help, Mr _._ Smith.”

_Temper._ Legolas reminded himself; she was just being difficult. He could handle this. “Than what time is your work finished?” he said in a voice like deep honey. “Four-thirty…like normal?”

“What business is it of yours?” she snapped.

“I would like very much to walk with you.” he murmured very innocently.

And Kris narrowed her eyes. Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to be so insufferable and… and so _irresistible_? But he _wasn’t_. She could resist him, and she would _._ It would just take some effort.

“If you have something to say…spit it out. If not, I’ve had quite enough of you.” she spat.

Legolas tilted an eyebrow, silently wondering if she had. Or was Aragorn right? Did she find him…appealing? Did this girl actually, in some remote way, desire him?

Legolas scanned his eyes slowly down Kristy’s flushed face, let her see…and very appreciably let his eyes linger on her panting chest. The long sleeved, simple black shirt was elastic and smooth. She became aware of how it clung, how her frustration heated her body and made her flush. Legolas saw it all pass through her face, and he marveled. He marveled at how she could slump so fast, keep her chin from trembling. Defiance. As if she could hide herself from him in such an outfit, keep his eyes from looking at her. She was furious…furious and embarrassed.

Almost without thinking about it, Legolas smiled. How’d he gotten to know this woman so impossibly well? Without her fea to guide him, even? It was remarkable.

And now with his cutest, most tantalizing smile--the one they told him was irresistible—he said brightly. “But I will wait for you! And then, when the twenty minutes are up, you will walk with me.”

And Kris straightened. “What? Where?”

“To the park, of course, to see the lights in the trees.”

She smiled sarcastically…or was it relieved? He couldn’t quite tell. Kristy told him it was one of the things she loved most about Christmas. The lights running through the trees, the hedges, lighting the pools in the park…she said she wanted to see them. But that was before…before all this.

“Oh, _so_ sorry, I can’t go walking today!” she threw her hands up flippantly, in a useless gesture. “See, Roger is picking me up at six for dinner and giving me a tour of his barracks.”

And the world stopped. Legolas blinked.

“Rog-…of his what?”

Kristy leaned closer, and she said very sweetly. “Where he lives, where he and his men _sleep_? It’s a barracks, and he’s gotten special permission to show it to me.”

“But…” he spluttered, “But you can’t!”

“Oh, I can. And I am.” She smiled.

“I will not allow it!”

Kris slammed the cleaning rag down. “You don’t own me, Legolas. When are you going to get it? In fact,” she spluttered, looking around. “you have nothing over me. Nothing at all!”    

Legolas was so angry he almost snapped. He almost reached across the counter, grabbed her by those tight elastic sleeves, and shook some sense into her. But he didn’t…not quite.

Instead, Legolas eased back on his heels. He carefully slipped his hands between the flaps of his coat, and stuck them in his jeans pockets. Then, he dropped his eyes a little. “Alright…alright, Kristy.”

She blinked, breaths slowing and shaking. She was expecting him to protest. She thought his eyes would flare and like when he was angry, he’d lean closer, fuming. She thought she could throw this delicious defiance in his face and walk away… And she couldn’t. The reaction surprised her.

“I see. And I see why you wish to do it.” Legolas fingered his belt loops, looking into nowhere. And knowing Kris was watching intently, confused, he relaxed so his back swayed in and his hips rested forward. He glanced at her once, let his eyes linger on her. They were deep and stormy blue, roiling and twisting into dark…misery, shame, sorrow. Beautiful.

Kristy stared.

“I am sorry for disturbing your work.” He whispered, let her see the agony hiding just under his eyes one last time…and turned slowly to the door.

“Legolas!” she said before she could stop.

And the elf paused, waiting. His heart skipped as he gazed intently at the door. _Don’t move._ Move now, and you will lose.

“Legs, I…I’m sorry.” She said. And he glanced back, a brief flare of something in his eyes…hope, or satisfaction. She didn’t know. But it made the next words spill out faster. “But I’m not disappointing Roger.”

Legolas stayed absolutely still. But from his gaze, Legolas’ heart fell. “I see.” He lifted crystal blue eyes and peered at her.

Oh…he wasn’t doing this. Was he really, actually doing this to her? She couldn’t believe it. How could those big azure eyes be so sorrowful, so exquisite?

_Dammit._ Kristy, get it together! And keep it together. She mentally shook her head, forcing the thought away. Precious Tauriel probably thought the same thing! She probably told him so in that lilting, fluent Sindarin every night.

And she hit the tabletop. “Dammit Legolas!” she hissed. “I said I’d go, and I’m _going._ ”

Legolas didn’t utter a word. He just looked.

“I’m not going be talked out of it!”

And he smiled faintly. “I see, Kristine.” He murmured finally. “I understand that you’d not wish to spend Christmas with us.” Legolas said. He fingered the edge of the doorway, chewing the inside of his lip. She’d never seen him do that…not awake. It made her look at his mouth. She didn’t want to, but she did.

“You don’t understand anything.” She said like she meant it, a half-hearted whisper.

“Then tell me. Explain what I don’t see.”

Kristy looked down, desperately working her thoughts, looking for something to say…think, do.

“I know that I have…overstepped some boundaries, recently.” He said anyway, making her glance up again. “I know you must wish to spend your holiday with loved ones. I understand that you don’t want to decorate with us, or celebrate with us _._ You don’t,” he looked down, scrunching his brows in a distraught, anxious frown. “You don’t want to be there because what we are.”

“What are you?”

“We are your burden.” He said very quietly.

And she couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh, _Legolas…_ ” Kris bit out. “It’s not that!”

She shoved off the counter in frustration and he looked up. She strode up to him, intending to tell the elf _precisely_ what she thought of him and his guilt-tripping tactics… And Legolas stepped closer, matching the movement. Kristy froze, taken aback.

“Then what is it, Kristine?” he rolled the name off his tongue like a caress. He saw what it did to her. She went breathless, flicking her eyes over the shaggy hair tousled over his forehead. It was so wild. So erratic.

“I-I…” she swallowed a visible lump in her throat. Legolas leaned closer, let fierceness into his eyes.

“I-I?” he echoed, glancing over her face, letting his eyes linger on her parted lips. “I what, Kristine?”

“You don’t get it, Legolas.”

“What don’t I get?”

And slowly, she recovered herself. She inwardly steeled herself, and said very breathily, very resolutely. “I happen to like Roger; he happens to like me. That’s what. In fact, he says I’m the most beautiful and _interesting_ woman he’s ever met. Does that tell you anything, anything at _all,_ Mr _._ Smith?”

Legolas’ face flinched into a smile, infinitesimally so. And he lifted a single finger, touched her chin. It made her wince. “It says that he’s not blind…my Kristy.”

_Oh, that did it._

She was blushing so madly, so furious, she smacked his hand off and stepped away. “I’m going with Roger tonight, Legolas. You can decorate yourself _._ You can do whatever the hell you want. Have fun.” Then, she smiled icily. “And to quote a wise man: frankly, m’dear, I don’t give a damn.”

He smiled a little. “Yes...” Legolas drew back, rubbing his hand. And as it crept up on him, he found he was highly amused. “I will try.”

It was all he said, but as Legolas watched her go in a whirl of Kristy fury, a smirk tugged at his mouth. She was so angry, so embarrassed. It was electrifying, watching what he did to her.

 

. . . . .

“I don’t cook.” Tauriel snapped, a few hours later. “I never did. I never will.”

Jingle bells flitted through the kitchen from the stereo in the other room. She didn’t know the English words, but it was a cheerful melody. She shoved the burned pie away and grabbed a knife; she just couldn’t manage her own hands! This body felt different. And cooking was hard enough at the best of times! Humans were clumsy. Humans were inept and they couldn’t keep track of things.

“Well what are we going to eat then?” Legolas gestured uselessly to a half-empty box of cold cereal. Damn that Kristy. _She_ should be doing this. “ _That_?”

He was hungry. Starving, actually.

Tauriel and he were struggling for a proper meal. Estel kept Shenzie, that worthless dog out on the balcony. The ranger was too busy to concern himself with things like the biggest Earth holiday though, and its dinner. He was mapping the stars, trying to decipher the next time the portals might be opened.

Legolas explained again and again that it was random, and completely unpredictable. Kris explained some of the aspects of solar energy to him. It was charged in the atmosphere from the passing of the comet, and the storms were becoming more unstable. Legolas told him this and he didn’t listen. Still, he tried.

But it didn’t matter. Food was priority one right now.

“No, chop them smaller.” Legolas instructed, coming over as Tauriel struggled with the simple act of dicing vegetables. She was more used to the sword and slaughtering _yrch_ then carrots and a kitchen knife.

“Since when have you learned about the culinary arts, Prince Legolas?” she snapped in a rare display of frustration.

“Since I lived three months in a steel complex with no one to feed me but a woman who _works_ eight hours a day. Here,” he reached out, “let me-” and he winced. “Ah!”

“I am sorry!” Tauriel hissed, instantly drawing her hand back.

“It…is alright.” Legolas grimaced, clutching his bloodied palm in shock.

“Are you sure?”

Tauriel creased her brows, pinched her lips uncomfortably, before proceeding the fight with the vegetables with a vengeance. Legolas recoiled a little. She’d cut him and…. and it _hurt_.

“Wise not to reach for a kitchen knife in use then, I take it!” she snarled, shoving the plate clean and into a bowl.

“Yes.” Legolas agreed, taken aback.

He squeezed his palm tightly, trying to stop up the flow some. And she threw him another glance. “It is not serious, surely…?”

Legolas shook his head a little, a brisk ‘no’.

“Does it hurt?” she pressed.

“No.” Legolas lied.

And that was that.

He turned away, feeling a little offended…and if he were honest, neglected. It was discomforting, but he knew why, too. He was so used to shooing away an agonizing Kristy. If she’d sliced his hand like that, she would have a bandage, salve, and painkiller on his hand before he could say a futile word. It was strangely…unsettling.

“I am fine. I will just…go bind it.” he muttered.

She nodded.

So when Legolas went out into the living room, glancing back disgruntledly, he found Estel inside again. Shenzie had frost under her gold chin, clinging to her mouth and panting lavishly. She watched with big, dark eyes as Estel got down on his knees. The sight almost made Legolas smile. Estel rutted through the cold boxes like a homeless man in the trash…Christmas decorations.

“What are you doing?” Legolas half laughed, forgetting the twinges in his hand.

“Strange holiday, this Christmas.” Aragorn commented, before holding up a sprig of something tied up in a red ribbon. “What is this?”

Legolas got a rag from the bathroom. “That’s mistletoe.” he explained. “Kristine says it is a sign of peace. It’s also a custom for anyone caught beneath it…to kiss.”

Estel scoffed, sitting back on his heels. “What kind of a custom is that?”

Legolas shrugged.

So he tossed the dried plant aside, before proceeding to rut deeper in the box, maybe looking for anything useful. “Queer.” The man said anyway.

“Yes…indeed,” Legolas sat on his legs beside. He slid his hands under his knees and rocked back and forth, letting the pressure stop the blood flow some. After a minute though, a teasing smile pulled at his lips. “…Unless the fair _Evenstar_ were here, of course. It might not seem so queer then.”

Aragorn shot a look. “I would not wish for anything that Arwen be marooned in this Eru-forsaken place.”

Legolas was about to chuckle, but the thought sank in and the urge faded. “No, you are right.”

It was miserable enough that they were here, much less Aragorn’s love. Legolas leaned back on the cold wall, shrugging to warm himself. Barely any heat in this place. The walls were chilly to the touch. On cold nights, Kristy would keep him warm. He started sorting lights for something to do, and he wondered if those days were gone for good… Maybe they should be gone.

Legolas was still mulling over it when the doorbell rang, _snap_ ding.

Shenzie jumped off the floor and started barking like mad, bouncing on her front legs. Aragorn’s head shot up and he glanced around.

“The door?”

“I’ll get it.” He nodded. The elf pushed off the floor to answer it. In the same instant, Tauriel and Aragorn got out of sight, using Shenzie’s insistent noise to cover it.

Legolas looked over his shoulder and when he was sure they were gone…Legolas carefully unlatched the bolt. Anyone could be out there: soldiers, police, worse…the landlady. So he hesitated, before carefully cracking the door open and -

“Kristy!” Legolas said in surprise.

And it was.

Legolas blinked. She stood outside in black, strappy heels, shifting obviously uncomfortably. His eyes flew up and down her bare legs, the jumbled strands of hair rippling past her shoulders. She was supposed to be gone for hours yet!

“Kristy. What a surprise.” He repeated more subdued, more dazedly. Legolas hadn’t seen her before she left. She’d spent an hour in the bathroom, getting ready, only to fly out the door... And he wished he had. He wished he’d gotten a chance to see this short, black dress on her. She never wore dresses.

“Kristy…” the door swung open uselessly then, and Legolas remembered himself. _Stupid is not appealing._ And Legolas put a sultry smile on his lips. “You look…um, beautiful.”

“Yeah, well.” She sighed, looking at the toe of her shoe a little awkwardly.

“Is something wrong?” Legolas pressed, positioning himself to block the entrance. He carefully leaned on the doorframe, highly amused. She was so pretty when she flushed like that. It almost made this game worthwhile. It was so easy.

“I forgot my purse, is all.” Kristy mumbled. Her hands fidgeted for something to do, even as they hung uselessly at her sides. But there was nothing.

“Your purse.” He said disbelievingly.

“I forgot my purse, and my money.” She said.

“You have been gone nearly two hours.”

“What is this, twenty questions?” she snapped finally. “Let me in. You don’t think I’m letting Roger pay for my dinner, do you?”

Oh, it was food for the fire.

“But on a date, the male _buys_ for the female.” He countered, totally aware she didn’t want to do this. “Unless it…” he pretended to gasp, “…wasn’t a date? Unless Roger isn’t willing to put his money where his _profligate_ mouth is?”

Oh. That was too far.

“For your information, _Mr._ Smith,” she hissed venomously, stepping forward. “Roger offered to pay for everything. I said I wanted to come home because-because I was worried about Shenzie, a-and I forgot my keys.”

Legolas blinked.

“I don’t want you starving my dog, and I _don’t_ want to be locked out of my own apartment _.”_ She insisted, before shoving past him and walking into the apartment. “I swear, Estel is the only one with a mind in this place.” she muttered.

And Aragorn smiled slightly. He stood in the living room, watching Legolas spin around, staring after in surprise. It was a miserable attempt at enticing her. If that elf kept his temper at bay for a solid five minutes…maybe he’d stand a chance.

“What did I do?” he protested in Sindarin, looking to Aragorn.

“Only being yourself, my friend.” he sighed. “Charming to the last.”

. . . . . .

… Red, blue, pink lights danced merrily on the walls. Holiday music and jingle bells played on the stereo on the shelf, filling the apartment with a cozy, festive feel. Even Kristy felt better that night, tossing tinsel over a Christmas tree. It happened slowly; she didn’t think it would. She didn’t want to swallow her pride enough to come back. It was disgraceful…

But she felt too guilty, wining and dining with Roger.

“Don’t bother.” Kris glanced up. Tauriel held an over-excited Shenzie down in the kitchen, teaching her _down_ on command in case it was ever needed. It was uncomfortable, speaking to the she-elf, but Kristy was feeling brave that night. “She’s as dumb as a pail of rocks.”

Aragorn smiled. “So, what do you do on this ‘Christmas’ holiday, Kristine?” he spoke up, sketching something that she couldn’t see. “What are your traditions? Customs? How do you celebrate?”

She deliberately avoided Legolas as he walked past, and she shrugged. “Well, some people get smashed. Some people go home to their families. You know…eat together, play games, catch a cold.” She laughed.

Aragorn smiled. It was a little hard to understand Kristy’s Westron, the way she randomly shoved and placed English words in the mix, but manageable. “And you? How do you usually spend it?”

“The latter two, I guess.” She confessed.

Legolas smirked. He picked up a box of things to hang on the tree, and he came up behind Kristy, bumped her lightly with it. She jumped, before sighing. Legolas held the carton with an infectious grin.

“You need help, Legolas.”

“What kinds of games, Kristine?” he asked, ignoring the comment. Instead, Legolas sidled up next to her, enveloped in the glow of the tree’s lights. It smelled of plastic and pines, of dust burning on the tiny bulbs. A fire snapped and burned in the hearth though, sending a bright yellow glow dancing through the room. “Truth or dare?” he suggested, remembering it from a movie on the television.

“Not a chance.”

“But-” And Tauriel came out of the kitchen. Legolas broke off and smiled at her, behind Kris’ back. He nodded her over, inviting her to help. “But everyone could do with more truth in this world. Do you not agree?” he pressed, handing Kris a glittery object. Tauriel hovered near the window, and he beckoned her over, expecting -

“Legolas!” Kristy gasped suddenly. “What the hell happened?”

And Legolas jolted in surprise. Someone grabbed his wrist. “What… _what_?”

“Your hand!”

“Oh,” Legolas flinched at the touch. “It is not serious.”

She snatched the box away from him anyway. “Estel,” she hissed, pointing at the ugly, dark slice across his palm. “What happened? Did _he_ do this?”

Legolas yanked his hand back, offended. “Why do you ask _him_ what happened to me?”

“Because you wouldn’t tell me if I asked!” She snapped.

Legolas rubbed his hand, aware of Tauriel’s surprised glance between them. He suddenly felt some of the festive feel drain out of the air, and he hurried to get it back. “Try me.” He dared.

Kristy blinked at him, obviously not expecting that. She glanced over his face. “What?”

“Try me. Ask me.”

“Well, what happened?”

“Truth or dare?”

Kris frowned.

“I cut myself on a kitchen knife.” He stated, opting for the truth. “While you were out gallivanting with Roger, I wanted something to eat.”

There’s tons of microwavable dinners in the freezer.” She said, as if it were obvious. “What did you have to dice?”

Legolas scoffed. Better to turn the tables away from himself though, and he said flippantly, “Tasteless mush! We wanted food for a change. And obviously _you_ weren’t around for the task, Kristy.”

Tauriel raised a brow, crossing her arms. “That food does not taste very much like food; it is true.”

“So you cut yourself chopping food.” She said skeptically, letting the box rest on her hip.

Legolas side-eyed her reluctantly, before nodding. _Why didn’t she let it go?_

“Did you clean the cut?”

He shifted on his feet, taking a bell-shaped ornament from the box, fingering it, before hanging it on the tree instead.

“Legolas? Did you _clean_ it?”

And he smiled, a little guiltily. “No.”

“Oh, come on.” She took his hand.

“But-”

“Legolas!” she snapped, and with that, dragged him away. “You. Bathroom. _Now_.”

Tauriel watched them go with a sideways glance, and when they were gone, she turned to Estel. He was still drawing…something, charts and maps of it laid out under him. The sight of them made her smile a little, but it couldn’t seem to last long.

So she focused on the ranger. It was strange, standing here. She’d never met the man before he came to Lothlorien. It was their common need to find Legolas that drew them together; she felt it even now.

“Something is wrong.” She said quietly, gazing after them again with a sigh. This time, it wasn’t in herself…the discontented stirrings she felt deep inside her, telling her to leave, to move on.

Aragorn’s hand stilled.

“He is not the same as when we parted, those years ago.” She whispered.

The ranger began turning the pen in his hands, round and round. “In what way?” he murmured softly.

The captain tore her eyes from the empty doorway and walked over, before sliding down on the couch beside. “Legolas was a withdrawn, quiet prince…” she said. “I knew him since I was a child. He loved the trees, and our people too. He was a…dear friend.”

Aragorn stared at his rough knuckles, listening. _Friend._ Dear friend…a part of him hoped Legolas was listening, too. But he knew it wasn’t so.

“There is a change about him.” He said in a quiet voice, “And I am not sure where it is from. What has happened to him, maybe, this place…Kristine.”

“I hardly recognize him.” Tauriel confessed.

Aragorn glanced up, studying her dark, furrowed eyes in the glowing lights. Sprigs of shadow lit the walls from where the garlands twined around tiny bulbs. It was peaceful, and yet he felt unsettled. “Even when he is not speaking…’English’.”

“And what is he doing with Kristine?” she shook her head, whispering.

Aragorn didn’t answer.

“Does he hope to keep her from the Marines by _provoking_ her?”

And Estel half-laughed. “I know not… But he does understand her better than I. Perhaps he knows what he’s doing.”

She sighed, staring at her cracked, broken nails. “I hope so.”

. . . . . .

In the white light, Legolas leaned on the counter, staring at a tousled, blonde head as she bound his hand. The bright overhead bulbs were painfully bright. Kristy avoided his eyes. She moved with crisp, precise movements.

She was still angry at him.

“I know you are upset. You need not tell me with every look on your face.”

She didn’t react. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Legolas almost smiled. “…Oh, Kristy-” and instantly, he flinched. Something stung, alcohol or peroxide in his hand. “Eh!” he yanked his hand back. “Be careful with that.”

Kristy stared straight ahead, mouth in a thin tight line, before lifting her eyes acidly.

“Kristine.” He pulled his fingers into a fist, ignoring the expression. “Tell me something. Did you desire to stay with Roger tonight? Is that why you are upset?”

She folded her arms, staring at him, but she didn’t answer.

“You could have gone back to him. Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t feel like it. I was tired.”

“Tired.” he repeated. And then, Legolas tilted his head a little. _Tired?_ Oh, what a feeble excuse. “What’s the real reason? Tell me. Please…I want to know.”

Kris flicked her eyes at him once. “Are you going to give me your hand?”

And with a frustrated hiss, Legolas snapped the lights off. She gasped.

“Legolas!” Kristy grabbed forward and flicked them back on.

He flipped them off again and stepped closer, barring her access to the switch. “ _Tell_ me. I wish to know.”

“I don’t care what you want to know!” She growled. “Gimme your hand…and _turn_ the light back on.”

“Not until you tell me.”

She stared up at him, breathing a little irregular. Then, with a flustered, nervous twitch of her mouth, she shrugged indifferently. He felt it stir the air, and with just the city lights outside, streaming faintly through the bathroom windows, he saw her eyes darken. “Fine. Fine! What do I care? Let the thing get infected. You’ll _probably_ contract hoof and mouth and die!”

He smirked, feeling some of the irritation vanish. “You mean foot and mouth? Too many veterinarian shows for you, precious thing.”

She glowered. “I meant what I said.”

“For your information the disease is from oral ingestion,” he informed her, shifting forward, letting his voice become low and warm, “…according to a physician’s medical book. Not surface injuries. Also, it is not fatal.”

Kristy stared at him, hardly believing the words came out of his mouth.

“Now why are you angry with me?” he murmured, shifting closer, keeping his hands trailing along the counter. He pressed a palm against the wall then, pinning her close against the tile.

“G-get away from me.” She whispered.

“I feel your heartbeat, Kristine.” he breathed, “You are afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

And Legolas curled his fingers, opening and closing his fists. He felt her reach up to his chest, as if to push him away, and her fingers lingered, pressed against him. An open shade threw horizontal shadows across her face...her dilated pupils, parted lips drying like she couldn’t breathe.

Oh. This was exquisite.

Legolas flexed his hips, feeling blood begin to rush. Kristy’s face filled, flushing a brilliant red. Her heart pounded in her chest; he heard it in her breath, felt it in her skin as it radiating heat, charging the air. Kristy reached behind herself with her other hand, blind, grimacing, feeling for the light switch, even as she stared into close, smoldering eyes. They were hooded in the dark.

And as quickly as it happened, it ended. “You are afraid of me.” he whispered. And with that, leaving it hanging in the air like a threat…a challenge, he pushed away from her.

Kris found it with a gasp of relief. By the time the fluorescents snapped on, Legolas was against the opposite wall like he’d never left, smiling coyly at her. His breathing was fast and irregular, but he forced it down. _Stay down._ Do not become flustered. Flustered is not appealing.

But she couldn’t walk away. Kristy gasped short, panting breaths. “A-afraid…of you!” she gaped in disbelief. Chest heaving, so furious she wanted to shout, hit him…she pointed. “Of _you?_ ”

He just stared at her like he knew she wanted him to. _Keep the stare._ No relief.

“Alright Legolas,” she gasped, shaking in anger and terror. “You wanted to know why I’m _mad_ at you? Oh I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you, alright.” Kris choked and swallowed, hitting hair out of her face. She tried to recover her composure, and she couldn’t. “You’re an arrogant son of a bitch.” She hiccupped, still trying to gulp in enough air. “You can’t stay out of my life. You t-think you run me; you think I want your stupid opinion. You-”

“I what,” he said, absolutely serious. “I care about you? I want to protect you?”

“No!” she spat. “No. You want to run my life!”

And he pressed his lips together, leaning back so his spine arched a little. He relaxed against the wall. The tile was cold, and he crossed his arms, tilting his head to one side. The movement made her wild, flashing eyes glance unwittingly to his chest. He knew it did, and she was caught.

“You are so afraid, Kristine.” He said in disbelief.

Before she had a chance to protest, Legolas forced a smile at her and pushed off the wall with his arms. Legolas nipped her chin with the back of his finger then, a lingering caress…and he turned away.

Kris stared after him, fuming so hard she couldn’t see. It blinded her and the world was red, not white. _Afraid._ Afraid of what? Afraid of him? It was so preposterous, so infuriating she wanted to scream, hit something.

But that wouldn’t help. It would mean he won.

And she didn’t want that. Not even a little. He _wouldn’t_ win, not this time.

 

. . . . . .

_Late that night.._

The passing of the elves...Tauriel held herself in her arms.

When it happened, the world became empty, like a barren wasteland. There was nothing left there. It was a never-ending search for something better. And between foggy distant shores and a dewy ocean, the longing rose like a living, whispering thing. It curled and twisted out of the sea. It reached over hills, over dales and snowy mountains. It was a spray of foam and a gust of salty air in the wasteland. It lapped at your feet…pulled, promised, soothed.

Tauriel looked over the city lights, Legolas at her side.

Lied? No, never lied.

It whispered of healing. Yes…healing, gray havens, of sailing ships. Distant, departed loved ones reached out with gentle, searching hands. She heard them. It reached through time and space, whispered from a hum of traffic, voices. She heard it and she wondered when it would be answered.

“Legolas…” she whispered faintly, gazing through the stars.

He made a responsive sound, chin in hand. He was preoccupied. Something…Kristine maybe…shrouded it and engulfed him.

“Once,” She said softly, “you said you would never sail the sea. You said the trees were your only home.”

He grew still a moment. A blur of light and dark focused into faint, pinpricks of windows, streetlights, traffic... And he blinked. “So it is for all Woodelves. No matter where we go, the Greenwood will always be home.” He said quietly.

Tauriel didn’t answer. She just…looked. It was so beautiful, the song.

Legolas turned. Brisk, flickering wind pulled at the midnight strands of her hair, dark in the blue of the sky. She stared, as if entranced with…something, haunted with a promise. Something beautiful and enchanting, like a far-away song.

“What is it, Tauriel?” he asked quietly.

Still, she didn’t answer. But her eyes turned to him, gleaming… And Legolas drew back. He inhaled a sharp, rigid breath.

“Tauriel?”

The ethereal glow filled her eyes; Legolas saw it and he didn’t understand. He wouldn’t. Even as the expression faded, utterly bound in a spell she felt weaving her soul into discontentment, longing…the word slipped from her lips.

“Nothing. I am sorry.”

Legolas reached to touch her hand, and she drew back.

“Truly…it is nothing.”

. . . . . .

**A/N: Thank you for reading! :)) And please have a great day.**


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